


Rumor Has It

by iridescentAI



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Neglect, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated Work, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insanity, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, background everyone in the series, i made my own team of students, this is a lot of OCs, we all know medusa wasn't nice to crona
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescentAI/pseuds/iridescentAI
Summary: Crona is Medusa Gorgon's ultimate weapon. The perfect experiment. A success. Mostly.Why stop at one? There's an entire world to burn...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to the "I can only write OC fics" show, thank you for tuning in for another episode
> 
> A few things before we begin:  
> This is an illustrated work! There will be drawings scattered in amongst the chapters. Take note, some of these will depict blood and bruising. I will always post warnings about sensitive content in the author's notes.  
> This fic uses he/him pronouns for Crona! If you have a problem with that, _don't read._

Every face seems fresh and new at the start of the new year at the Death Weapon Meister Academy. The incoming freshman class is as diverse a mix as always, and there are plenty of rumors about the newcomers- like, did you hear that a pair of eleven year old twins were admitted this year? Or _I heard_ that Lord Death’s _daughter_ is set to attend the academy this year- did you even _know_ that Death the Kidd had siblings?

 

In a school for especially gifted kids- kids with the power to turn into weapons, or to see souls, or that have the drive and desire to learn how to _wield_ one of those human weapons- these are normal rumors. There’s always news to be spread, there’s always gossip concerning whose rich parents are sending their deadbeat son here, or which kids seem to pick the most fights, or who’s starting to separate themselves from the pack as the smartest, the fastest, the strongest.

 

But this year would prove to be the farthest from normal that the DWMA had ever seen.

 

It begins with a rumor.

 

\---

 

Aliyah doesn't cry.

 

It's what unnerves her rivals, her classmates, her opponents, and many more.

 

Normal people cry when they sustain an injury.

 

Normal people cry when they talk about the death of someone close to them.

 

Normal people cry when they get emotional.

 

Pretty early on, it becomes obvious that Aliyah is anything but normal.

 

She certainly _looks_ normal. Short brown hair, yellow eyes, on the tall side of average height- there’s nothing outstanding about her features. It’s easy to look past her in a class full of flashy students that all hope to stand out.

 

Aliyah Faulkner just… doesn't cry.

 

Her classmates watch as she spars with a weapon, and they collectively flinch when the hand twisted behind her back gives a startlingly loud _pop_ of protest.

 

The teacher refereeing the match calls it and runs to Aliyah, but all Aliyah does is stand there.

 

She stands quietly, examining crooked fingers with her head tilted, lips pursed.

 

She's not unfeeling or emotionless- a classmate asks her later if it hurt, and she nods with a wry smile as she rubs the splint taped onto her sprained fingers.

 

She just... doesn’t cry.

 

It only takes a couple weeks of academic and physical testing for a pattern to emerge in the freshman class scores. Aliyah is consistently among the top students in both categories- and interest towards the normal looking girl begins to grow.

 

All DWMA students aim to find their first partner, to find their meister, or their weapon. Eventually, after years of training, they’ll engage in combat against the monsters of their world as a team, all in the hopes of defending their fellow man from the horrors of a kishin attack. Or worse.

 

Aliyah is a meister, a specific brand of student dedicated to learning the trade of a weapon. She's weaponless, though. Unpartnered. Solitary.

 

And the more the people around her notice her achievements, the more people begin to approach her.

 

She receives many requests to partner up from many first-year weapons that are _also_ searching for a partner, all hoping to latch onto someone strong at the start.

 

Most of them she turns down as soon as they ask. Others are lucky enough to be challenged to spar with her, and a select few even make it into her hand in their weapon forms. She considers each prospective partner, weighing them in her hands, testing the rate of their subconscious resonation.

 

To most of the students approaching her on the basis of partnership, she says no.

 

Except for Cadence.

 

To Cadence, she says yes.

 

Cadence Pasolini is one of those kids who stood out right off the bat at the beginning of the new school year. He’s a multi-form weapon, a weapon with more than one form he can transform into- in Cadence's case, a sword or a scythe, two close-range weapons.

 

What made Cadence stand out so quickly was how quickly became clear he had no conscious control over which form he’d end up transforming into. On top of that, he’s friends with the infamous Soul Eater Evans- and according to the latest gossip, they knew each other as kids.

 

Not to mention, he’s tall, strong, and has an easy smile that makes him popular with the ladies.

 

Aliyah almost turned him down just for that last one, but the sincerity of his request to partner with her made her think again.

 

She likes his genuine excitement, likes the way he clearly thought through every step before he ever approached her. She likes the way they subconsciously resonate as soon as the steel of his weapon form (a scythe, this time) lands in the palm of her hand. She likes the challenge that wielding him and his unpredictable forms poses. She likes the way they fit together without question, without her even noticing.

 

She decides to take Cadence on as her weapon partner, and that's the end of that.

 

\---

 

Cadence is friendly, level-headed, and careful to put thought into every action he takes. It quickly becomes clear that he is Aliyah’s total opposite.

 

The most noticeable example of their opposing personalities is that… Cadence has friends. A group of them, in fact. Aliyah is a loner, content to skirt the edges of crowds and friend groups and keep to herself.

 

Everyone knows that Cadence is friends with Soul Eater Evans. By default, that puts him in communication with the upper level EAT class kids, which makes him the envy of their freshman class. But Cadence makes friends easily and quickly, so he adds first-years- faces that are familiar to Aliyah- to the mix without breaking a sweat.

 

The first of those familiar faces is Jason Blackmore, a guy who keeps his headphones in and his mouth shut.

 

He’s not quiet like Aliyah- Aliyah is quiet because she has nothing to say, because she’s busy watching other people and collecting information. Jason is quiet in a moody, sullen way, something that screams _rebellion_.

 

At first glance, Aliyah pegs him as a slacker, effectively dismissing him- but Cadence scoops him up like a newfound treasure and excitedly babbles to her about the new addition to his growing basketball team.

 

Now that they're partnered, Aliyah is almost constantly surrounded by Cadence’s friends, both from the NOT and the EAT class. Truthfully, she doesn’t understand how Cadence manages to navigate people as well as he does. In theory, she could learn by watching him, but she doesn't think she'll ever reach his level of expertise.

 

Whether by watching and learning from Cadence or just by her own natural gravity, Aliyah does manage to meet people on her own.

 

Shiro Kouri is the first friend Aliyah makes outside of Cadence’s influence.

 

He’s a lot like her in respects to rumors- meaning that there aren't many to be found, since he isn’t incredibly unusual, appearance-wise.

 

Tall, blonde, and broad-shouldered, Shiro looked more like he fit into the Dumb Jock category than the Studious Nerd- save any stereotypes about the glasses perpetually sliding down his nose. Regardless, a couple weeks of academia was all it took to put him in the running for one of the top spots among the new wave of students, negating any dumb jock stereotypes that might’ve been thrust upon him.

 

Along with proving himself as one of the incoming class' top students, like Aliyah, Shiro was a meister. And as one of the incoming class' top students- especially as a student constantly pushing himself to grow stronger, get better- Shiro had approached Aliyah on the grounds that many in their year had tried before: to teach him what she knew.

 

To all of the students that approach her for tutoring, she says no.

 

Shiro had asked only once- very respectfully, as was his nature- and had very politely backed off after her uninterested refusal.

 

(The students that _don’t_ back off after their initial rejection receive only silence in response to further questioning.)

 

When Cadence asks why she won’t tutor anyone, he finds that she isn't used to people asking her for help. Especially not with such… honesty. She also isn’t used to interactions that don’t benefit her- because when they don’t benefit her… she usually gets hurt in return.

 

(That confession… kind of concerns him.)

 

Furthermore, she admits she isn’t used to people handling rejection as well as Shiro had.

 

Shiro had… surprised her. But she'd still said no.

 

And that had been the end of it.

 

Until Layla.

 

\---

 

Layla Lemay is… a firecracker, to put it in simple terms. On the first day of school, she’d introduced herself to everyone individually as a weapon- a pistol, to be precise- that was looking for a meister.

 

(All Aliyah had to do was shake hands with Layla to know that they weren’t a good match for each other.)

 

 _Everyone_ knows Layla. And Layla seems to know everyone in return.

 

Though she didn’t shine in academics, she quickly proved herself as one of the best students in technical studies- the studies of meister and weapon technique. As it turned out, Layla was innately perceptive, possessing a unique soul sensing skill even though she was a weapon, and could pick up on emotions just by being near somebody. It made her incredible at resonating with partners, since she barely had to put any effort into matching what they were feeling when the time came to sync up soul wavelengths. 

 

Layla had a tendency to flip everything upside down.

 

To everyone's surprise, Layla had stuck to Shiro like glue as soon as she met him. To everyone's  _shock_ and  _disbelief_ , Shiro had quickly agreed to be her meister _._

 

Then, Layla set her sights on Aliyah.

 

“I heard you're the best in our class!”

 

At the time, Aliyah hadn't even looked up from her work. “That's what they keep telling me.”

 

“Yeah!” Layla didn't miss a beat. “Shiro told me he asked you to teach him, once,” she mused aloud, and Aliyah didn’t have to look up to know Layla’s thoughts were wandering off.

 

“I said no.” Aliyah had cut off her train of thought with a blunt refusal, hoping it would discourage the perky weapon and shoo her away for good.

 

“I remember him telling me about that!”

 

(It didn't look like Layla was going away at _all_ , much less for good.)

 

“He wasn't super happy about it, I don't think.” Layla had continued, unperturbed. “Shiro works really hard to improve himself. It makes me feel bad because… I don't. I’m just… naturally good, somehow.” The confession hung in the air, making Aliyah wonder if she was supposed to offer some kind of consolation in return. “Anyways, it's really too bad you don't wanna hang out or anything. You seem really cool! We could be friends!”

 

That seemed to strike Aliyah, and she’d turned to the pistol with surprise glittering in her eyes. “I thought you wanted me to teach your meister.”

 

Layla’s head had tilted, allowing long, auburn hair to fall over her shoulder- and Aliyah hadn’t been sure if the confusion in bright green eyes was Layla’s or her own surprise reflecting back at her.

 

“You don’t have to be useful to me to be my friend, Aliyah,” the younger girl had informed her, suddenly serious. It was unlike Layla to stand still for that long. It caught Aliyah off guard.

 

That night, Aliyah had approached Cadence with a new question.

 

How do you take something back?

 

\---

 

Somehow, she managed to communicate to Shiro that she’d be willing to teach him. She didn’t say it outright, but it was pretty clear that it was her own offer of friendship. It was proof that she was useful, even though Layla had promised there was no need to be.

 

Aliyah and Shiro got along _swimmingly_. They were similar souls; intelligent, persistent, and unbearably snarky. Studying and training often saw a flood of quips and jabs traded between the two meisters.

 

When their weapons would tag along, Cadence has to stop himself for apologizing for his meister’s sharp tongue. Layla always laughs, amused by the show.

 

\---

 

After she makes her first friends, another not normal thing surfaces.

 

Aliyah won’t talk about herself.

 

She’ll talk about the things they learn in school, about the latest news, or the technique of a meister/weapon team. But when deeper topics win out, topics that build friendships, that drive conversation forwards, Aliyah stops talking.

 

It’s not like she even _slips_ , either. There’s no accidental answer, no involuntary beginning of a story, not even a glimmer of reminiscence in her eyes.

 

There’s another batch of rumors about Aliyah that no one has dared to bring up to her face yet. Everyone’s seen the black slices on her shoulders, the twin marks that curl around each of her deltoids, the slashes that are clearly visible in the sweater vest and collared tank top duo she wears underneath the jackets.

 

Aliyah doesn’t talk about herself, so no one’s sure if they’re tattoos or scars- and no one knows why they’re black.

 

No one will ask.

 

Except Layla.

 

While they were training outside one day, baking in the Nevada heat, Aliyah had slipped her school uniform jacket off, folded it neatly, and shoved it in her bag.

 

“What are those? On your shoulders?”

 

Aliyah had paused, ran her fingers over one black line, and answered. “Scars.”

 

“What are they from? If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” Shiro had piped up, glasses glinting as bright as the intrigue in his eyes.

 

Instead of answering, all the breath had rushed out of Aliyah at once. She plopped back on her heels as if someone had pushed her down.

 

Cadence called her name, concerned, but she hadn’t responded.

 

“Hello?” Shiro joined in, raising his voice as if Aliyah hadn’t heard him before. “Where are they-”

 

To everyone’s surprise, Layla had stepped in front of her meister, planting herself in between him and Aliyah. “It’s sad.” She had simply stated. “It’s sad and scary. If she doesn’t want to answer, she doesn’t have to.”

 

Shiro could see tears pooling in Layla’s eyes. Her soul perception acted more like soul empathy- she tended to personally experience the feelings of others while in close proximity. So, if Layla was this disturbed… why didn’t Aliyah look bothered at all?

 

“It happened a long time ago.” Was the only explanation they got out of Aliyah before she had swung the topic back to the training session at hand.

 

\---

 

Cadence almost forgot about that conversation. Almost.

 

They live together. It’s good for meister weapon teams, for resonation building- and Cadence has a little extra money to spare to afford an apartment in Death City.

 

The night after that conversation, he’d been woken up by _screaming_. Bloodcurdling, horrified, _screaming_.

 

He had _sprinted_ to Aliyah’s room, already half transformed, fully expecting a kishin to be hovering over Aliyah’s bedside.

 

Instead, it was just Aliyah. Aliyah, wide-eyed and whimpering, clawing at the sheets like they were trying to eat her. With a little effort, Cadence had returned his arm to human instead of weapon, and with a little more effort, he woke Aliyah up from her nightmare.

 

After a lot of consoling- which was still weird for them because Cadence is a naturally touchy, physical person, and Aliyah seems to shy away from human contact, but they manage- Aliyah was finally breathing normally again, and the terror in her eyes had died down to a manageable flightiness.

 

She hadn’t told him anything about her nightmare, but he could guess at the contents after she turned to him with wide eyes and breathed out a confession.

 

“My parents were killed.”

 

Cadence… really hadn’t known what to say to that.

 

He blinked at her, stunned into silence, and finally asked, “By who?”

 

Wide, golden eyes had traced the length of Cadence’s arm where it reached out to hold her by the shoulders until she was staring down at her lap, staring at her own hands fisted in the sheets.

 

“ _By me._ ”

 

And that’s only the _beginning_ , Cadence finds out.

 

\---

 

She doesn’t open up about _anything_ around other people, but she’ll talk pretty freely when she’s alone with Cadence- which is how he inevitably finds out.

 

Aliyah won’t talk about herself because Aliyah doesn’t _know_ about herself.

 

One night while they were meal planning, he had asked her what her favorite food was. She had looked up at him, golden eyes oddly blank, and honestly answered, “I don’t know.”

 

He passes the answer off, at first. There’s a lot of good food out there, he understands not being able to choose between them.

 

The gravity of the situation doesn’t fully hit him until he wonders aloud one day, talking about birthdays and age differences in their class. The eleven year old twin weapons had been wreaking havoc, their true natures revealed in a full-blown prank war between two classes.

 

Cadence, grumbling about being caught in the crossfire, had asked Aliyah if she'd been _that_ annoying when she was that age.

 

“I don’t remember.” She’d answered without hesitation.

 

It had taken him by surprise, and he’d turned to face her with another question already on his tongue.

 

“How old are you?”

 

Aliyah had regarded him with a guarded hesitation. She knew that concerned look in his eyes, knew she’d already done something weird- and she didn’t want to be weird again.

 

“I don’t know.” She’d finally answered, words rolling out of her molasses slow.

 

After a couple more prodding questions and hesitant answers, Cadence figures out that Aliyah _literally_ does not know. The nightmare that she’d had a few weeks back had been her first full glimpse into her own past.

 

He calls Lord Death the very next day.

 

The shinigami is perplexed by their situation, but he's as bubbly and buoyant as ever, and suggests they bring their plight to the new professor on campus, Dr. Franken Stein. Apparently, Stein is some kind of Soul Expert- or at least, he’s very good at reading and manipulating souls- so maybe he can help with whatever weirdness is happening to Aliyah.

 

It’s worth a shot.

 

\---

 

After their first meeting, Aliyah declares that she _does not like_ Stein, and will not be going back.

 

Shortly after making this decision, she has another nightmare- of the screaming variety, to Cadence’s dismay. Her weapon drags her back to the professor’s office, and they all sit down and talk.

 

After questions upon questions and explanations and some soul poking and prodding, Stein had suggested that she might check inside of her soul for answers.

 

After a brief explanation from the professor on _how_ to do that, Aliyah sat down with Cadence, resonated with him, and the two of them promptly dropped into the most disheveled looking library they’d ever seen.

 

“It’s not supposed to look like this.” Aliyah had noted, mostly to herself.

The first thing Cadence did was reach for a book on the shelf- the only one in sight that seemed fully intact- and opened it before Aliyah had time to stop him.

 

_“Hold still, honey, hold still,”_

 

_“It’s alright, you’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna take care of you,”_

 

The words would’ve been comforting if they weren’t interspersed with maniacal laughter, choked giggles undermining the sincerity of the sentiments.

 

Cadence couldn’t see anything. It was just white static and blurry shapes. He did make out the unmistakable glint of metal through the haze, and a child’s voice reached his ears.

 

“ _What’s that for, mommy? No- please don’t- please don’t- please-”_

 

Once he realized that the child's voice was Aliyah’s voice, just pitched up a little higher, he wished he’d never touched the book. Especially when the child started to scream.

 

The sound is markedly different from Aliyah’s nightmare screams. In the present day, there are no sniffles, no shaky inhales, no too fast breaths. It was the same terror, but the Aliyah now doesn’t cry.

 

Cadence had dropped the book and stumbled back, staring at the offending article as if it had grown wings and flown.

 

“These must be my memories,” Aliyah realized, also staring at the book on the ground. “No wonder I can’t remember anything. This place is a wreck.”

 

“What was _that?_ ” Cadence had screeched, backing away from the crumpled pages in front of him. “Were those your parents? Was that _you?_ Was that a _knife?_ ”

 

Aliyah hadn’t responded for a beat, golden eyes trained on the ground. When her fingers lifted to trace over the scar on her shoulder, Cadence connected the dots.

 

“Yes,” came Aliyah’s quiet answer. The look on her face told Cadence that she knew what she was saying was _not normal, weird, out of the norm_ , that she wanted to retreat, to take it back and hide away again.

 

“They sounded… they sounded _insane_ ,” Cadence had breathed. The two of them stood still, frozen to the spot.

 

“They were.”

 

Aliyah didn’t look up from the floor.

 

“Why?”

 

Her fingers dug into her shoulder as soon as the question left Cadence’s mouth.

 

Here, sitting in her soul, resonating with her, with her chest rising and falling at the same pace as his, her thoughts whirling within arm’s reach… Because he was so connected with Aliyah in that moment, and for no other reason, he knew she thought it was her fault.

 

“Something must’ve happened nearby,” Cadence switched tracks, refusing to let her persecute herself for something that couldn’t _possibly_ have been her fault. “Kishin can have afflicting wavelengths, you know. We learned about it in class, remember? Maybe there was one in your area, and your parents fell victim to the madness,”

 

Aliyah didn’t believe him, but Cadence could feel the relief flooding her system almost as palpably as his own as soon as he realized he was making a difference.

 

“You’re lucky to have even _survived_ , Aliyah.” Cadence had decided, finally moving to step up next to his meister. For once, she didn't flinched away from him, just leaned into the hug he offered without question. After a beat, he had added, “ _I’m_ lucky to have such a strong meister.”

 

After that, Aliyah doesn’t protest the visits with Stein.

 

\---

 

She talks with Cadence about her nightmares, about the little things that come back to her at random during the day, or about anything at all, trying to figure out for herself what she likes and doesn’t like.

 

They don’t talk about her parents. Aliyah doesn’t bring it up, and Cadence doesn’t push.

 

She doesn't like to talk about her parents, but the topic persists. Layla goes home all the time to visit her younger sister, and Maka’s dad is following her around almost constantly. The blonde meister actually hides underneath their lunch table one day in a desperate attempt to avoid him.

 

Aliyah is still surprised at how full their lunch table is- and how diverse a crowd Cadence seems to attract. Their crowd consists of Aliyah’s friends, Cadence’s friends, and- occasionally- Cadence’s friends’ friends.

 

Soul is the reason why Maka sits with them- and the reason behind all of the friends of Maka and Soul that stay to hang out in their general vicinity too.

 

Aliyah doesn’t like BlackStar, but she doesn’t have much of a choice about his company, since Tsubaki and Cadence have become pretty good friends from talking about managing their multi-form weapon transformations. It would be selfish of her to demand Cadence bar Blackstar (and by default, Tsubaki) from their table. 

 

Aliyah doesn’t mind Lord Death’s son, nor does she mind his weapons- despite the rampant rumors running amok about the sisters' reign of terror before Kid adopted them or something. Lord Death’s daughter (whose name is Cassandra, which Aliyah thinks is a little more creative than Death the Kid), is very nice, and Aliyah finds herself gravitating more towards the daughter’s company than the son’s.

 

Very unsurprisingly, Layla and Patti get along like a house fire. Shiro is often too exasperated to put it out.

 

Eventually, her friends (or, more accurately, Cadence’s friends) want to know: what's your home life like?

 

“I don't have one.” She’d replied quietly, and the chatter at her lunch table screeched to a halt.

 

It hadn’t taken _too_ long for the group to recover, and they'd clamored over each other, demanding to know how she didn’t have a home life. She had ignored them until they finally settled down.

 

“My parents are dead.” Aliyah had clarified before she took a bite of her lunch. The air had shivered, and the atmosphere had suddenly become much more tense than it was before.

 

“Oh.” someone whispered. It might’ve been Cassandra- or, as she’d pleaded with them to call her, _Cassie_.

 

“Is that why you want to be a meister?” someone else had asked.

 

Aliyah's face had twisted up with something like disgust before she could reply. “No. It wasn't really my choice.”

 

Vague and cryptic. Classic Aliyah. Cadence would have questions, later.

 

“How’d they die?”

 

The table had shot glares at the suspect with no tact ( _ahem_ , BlackStar), and Aliyah had hesitantly exchanged glances with her weapon.

 

“It's not a pretty story. I'd rather not talk about it.”

 

They had left it at that.

 

When the story became more widespread, the group had wondered why she didn't seem that broken up about it.

 

Aliyah gets frustrated. She yells, argues, and growls when her emotions get the best of her.

 

Aliyah gets sad. The wistful look in her eyes when she’s telling Cadence about an old memory or the frown that pulls on her lips when people avoid her isn't hard to recognize.

 

Aliyah gets hurt. She spits curses and hisses in pain when she gets roughed up, and Cadence doesn't like the way she sits and stares at nothing for a while after someone calls her rude names.

 

But she doesn't cry.

 

Layla cries a lot. Most of it isn't her fault- her empathy abilities pick up on sadness and happiness most easily. As they get to know Lord Death’s daughter, they find that the pressure to live up to her namesake causes her to blank on easy answers and make dumb mistakes a little too often for her liking. Cassie cries in frustration when the forgetfulness gets to be too much. The twins in their class are strong for their age, but they're still children, they still cry. Even Shiro had broken down once after failing over and over for hours.

 

But Aliyah doesn't cry.

 

\---

 

Eventually, the majority of the first years find their partner- at least, their partner for the time being- and the crowd at Aliyah and Cadence’s lunch table grows. The eleven year old twins end up partnering with Cassie- a decision that her brother very much approves of, chanting _symmetry, twins, perfect_ , the first day she introduces them to the lunch table. Jason has a bit of trouble finding a weapon partner- he can’t see souls, can only sense them, and he doesn’t resonate well with others, which makes him kind of undesirable.

 

Most people can resonate on a base level with a stranger- at least enough to achieve the subconscious resonation that forms just by holding the demon steel of someone’s weapon form. It’s a little harder to sync up enough to move the weapon around, a little harder to be in sync enough to coordinate attacks, and much, much harder to start the chain reaction that is Soul Resonance.

 

Jason, however, couldn’t even begin to worry about Soul Resonance. He couldn’t seem to achieve a base resonation steady enough to even _hold_ a weapon.

 

At first, almost every weapon sought him out, seeking the challenge, hoping to be the _special_ one that could resonate with Jason Blackmore.

 

The more people that tried and failed, the less people that stepped up to the plate. Eventually, rumor spread that Jason wasn’t a _challenge_ , but a _failure_ , and people stopped asking to take a test drive of their partnership.

 

The trouble starts with Onashi Hellmiss.

 

Not just for Jason, but for Aliyah, as well.

 

\---

 

There are _plenty_ of rumors about Onashi. She’s got dark hair, cut in choppy, uneven chunks, the strands interspersed with streaks of color- red, turquoise, cobalt, purple. She has more piercings than their entire class combined- and she was reportedly _very_ upset when school dress code only allowed her ear piercings to remain on her face.

 

Immediately, the rumors surrounding her speak of rebellion and refusal to follow directions.

 

Dress code is a rule she very clearly skirts the line on. She wears the uniform, but it’s unbuttoned, hemmed, and slashed open until it fits her personal style- and just _barely_ meets the school requirements.

 

The dress code is only the first infraction. In classes- _especially_ combat classes- she argues with the teachers, insisting that _this isn’t the only way_ , and that _I’m not doing it wrong_ and _you’re just shortsighted!_

 

Gossip also tells that Onashi becomes ill at the oddest times. Maybe she’s just got a weak composition- or _maybe_ she’s got _brain cancer!!!_ \- but Onashi is often excusing herself to go sit down, head between her legs, hands folded over the back of her neck. The stubborn teachers that don’t allow her to sit out find her point proven by a collapse, the girl rendered unseeing and unhearing for precious few seconds (or minutes) until the world comes back into focus.

 

Aliyah doesn’t have any classes with Onashi, so she only hears about the girl through the grapevine. Actually, she hears about the girl mostly through Jason.

 

Jason, for as little as he talks, complains about Onashi _a lot_.

 

According to him, Onashi is brusque and unfriendly, and is a weird combination of impulsively doing things for the hell of it and stubbornly refusing to change her ways. Either way, she refuses to bend to any rule, authority, or partner.

 

Apparently (and unsurprisingly) she’s partnerless too.

 

Jason groans and complains and sighs, but one day, out of nowhere, he plops down at the lunch table wide-eyed and stunned.

 

“Did someone hit you?” Cadence had wondered, waving his hand in front of his friend’s face. Jason had blinked a couple times, then, still looking like a deer in headlights, turned to respond to Cadence.

 

“I-” he paused, closed his mouth, frowned, then opened it again, “I have a weapon partner now.”

 

This warranted even Shiro’s attention, dragging the blond meister out of his most recent novel, and he’d looked up just in time to see Cadence light up like a christmas tree with excitement. Cadence almost immediately had Jason’s hand in his, vigorously shaking it to congratulate his friend, but Jason’s dark blue eyes were still clouded with confusion.

 

“What happened?” Aliyah wondered, at the same time that Layla demanded, “Who is it?”

 

The other meister had looked away, a hand raising to fiddle with his ponytail, as he always did when he was put on the spot. Judging by how quickly the dark strands fall out of the loop he usually kept it in, dropping the entire length of glossy, dark hair into his palm, he’d been messing with it for a while now.

 

“Onashi informed me that I’m her meister now.” He’d finally answered.

 

This hadn’t satisfied anybody’s curiosity, and Jason had to take a deep breath before launching into his explanation.

 

The two of them had been grouped together for an in-class exercise, since neither of them had partners and neither of them could seem to work well with anybody. (Unconsciously, in Jason’s case. Completely consciously, in Onashi’s.) Jason had refused- since wielding a weapon with a clashing wavelength could hurt both the meister and the weapon, and Jason had enough experience with that- but Onashi had… basically bullied him into at least trying.

 

“And we resonated,” Jason had breathed out the sentence like it still surprised him. “Just like that. And she laughed at me for being so worried about it! As if- as if she hadn’t heard about how difficult it is for me to resonate!” He complained, throwing himself into a slouch, arms crossed and lip stuck out in a pout.

 

Aliyah’s beginning to think that Jason’s not used to being made fun of- even in a friendly way. It’s not that he just doesn't _like_ it, he just seems… surprised by the occurrence.

 

(Aliyah expects it, nowadays, but that’s another story.)

 

So, of course, the next day, Jason had been tailed by a newcomer.

 

Aliyah had been very interested to finally see this Onashi character, but Cadence had stood to shake her hand before she could get a good look, broad shoulders blocking the shorter newcomer.

 

From what she could see from almost leaning into Layla’s lap, Onashi was a little on the short side of average height, stocky in a way that gives her the curves Aliyah lacks, and ghostly pale.

 

When Cadence had finally moved out of the way, turning to introduce each of the members of their table, Aliyah had frozen on the spot.

 

“That’s Shiro, and his weapon Layla, and that’s my meister-”

 

Eyes that a dark, dark turquoise seemed to crash into Aliyah like the unforgiving waves of the ocean, pulling her into the sea green depths and effectively drowning her in their endless expanse. Onashi spoke before Cadence could finish.

 

“Aliyah.” Came the quiet intonation, full lips pressed in a thin, grave line.

 

It had taken three seconds for Onashi’s eyes to roll back in her head, two more for her knees to buckle, and one before she hit the ground, out cold.

 

Aliyah was in no better shape. While people crowded around Onashi, patting her cheeks and helping her sit up, Aliyah slid back in her seat, eyes wide, her Soul Perception locked on the beat of the girl behind those deep blue eyes.

 

_Familiar voices, laughing, having fun, giggling, in and out of madness, arguing, yelling, disagreeing, shouting, pleading, screaming, crying,_

 

_Holding hands, little hands, fingers laced together, palms gripping steel, pitch black demon steel, glinting purple in the light,_

 

 _Blue eyes, pinched in frustration, crinkled with laughter, soft with… with_ something _, wide with surprise, with horror, with regret,_

 

All in one smooth movement, Aliyah had swiveled in her seat, slung her bag over her shoulder, and bolted.

 

_running running running_

 

She only reappears after she’s nearly broken down outside of Stein’s office, knocking knocking knocking knocking until he walks out of a classroom nearby, summoned by the racket. She only reappears after she unloads on Stein, a stream of words that won’t stop, that don’t make any sense, that start over and over and over again-

 

“Onashi,” she had kept repeating, staring at the ground, at her shoes, the wall, anything that’s not Stein’s cold, calculating gaze. “I grew up with Onashi. She was there for all of it, for everything,”

 

She only reappears after the words stop coming out, after her lips stop moving around soundless syllables, after her mind stops revolving around  _Onashi, I grew up with Onashi_ , and she thinks she can focus on schoolwork again.

 

When she comes back to class, Layla moves to the other side of the classroom. Aliyah’s sure she’s picking up on the hurricane of emotions inside of her, and she doesn’t blame Layla for avoiding the mess she is right now.

 

Onashi comes back to the lunch table the next day. Aliyah does not.

 

Cadence knows that Onashi triggered some kind of flashback in Aliyah, and he knows Aliyah is very confused and upset by it. He notices that whenever Onashi comes up in conversation, Aliyah’s face screws up in a familiar expression.

 

He’d say it was the look people get before they’re about to cry, but Aliyah doesn’t cry. She hasn’t yet, and she doesn’t now.

 

Eventually, she returns to the lunch table. Onashi sits as far away from Aliyah as she can while still sitting by Jason. Aliyah watches her.

 

Aliyah watches familiar hands, familiar eyes, a familiar laugh, a familiar smile, a familiar frown, a familiar _soul_ sitting just out of her reach.

 

Aliyah watches Onashi corner her after lunch one day.

 

“ _Stop_ looking at me like that.” The weapon had insisted, the demand sounding suspiciously like a threat as she hissed it through bared teeth.

 

Aliyah doesn’t take well to threats- and she’d usually bristle at the mere _insinuation_ of one- but she knows this voice too well to react to its threats anymore.

 

“ _Jason_ is my meister now.” Onashi added- and Aliyah couldn’t help but notice the use of _now_. Clearly, Onashi had remembered the same thing as Aliyah.

 

_Onashi’s sleek black scythe, spinning faster than the eye could track, tossed between Aliyah’s hands as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Repeating patterns like muscle memory, resonating, running, running, running-_

 

“You can’t remember anything either,” Aliyah had noted, head tilting, golden eyes watching, processing processing processing. “Can you?”

 

Onashi had _scowled_. “None of your _goddamn business_.”

 

Aliyah rolled her eyes. “You might as well have said yes.” She’d muttered, unimpressed. “Don’t you want answers? Aren’t you curious? Confused? Scared? Angry?” Onashi hadn’t reacted to any of the listed adjectives, so Aliyah tacked on, “Anything?” for good measure.

 

“I feel dizzy,” Onashi grit out. She was clearly aggravated, but her rage was a heatless fire. It’s freezing, stone-cold, silent and steady. “Every time I remember something, I get dizzy. There’s a lot to remember, so you can imagine how often that happens.”

 

Aliyah had opened her mouth to guess, but Onashi had cut her off with a hissed demand for her to _be quiet_.

 

“I can deal with the dizziness. I don’t like it, but I can get past it.” The shorter girl crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto one leg- and the pose was so recognizable, Aliyah could draw it out with her eyes closed. “What I _don’t_ like, is how disturbing the things I remember are.”

 

Aliyah had felt small, and it had a lot to do with how accurate Onashi was. She’d argued anyways.

 

“But-”

 

“What’s the best way to slit someone’s throat?”

 

Aliyah answered before she even processed how gruesome the question was. “Tilt their head down. If you pull their head back, the windpipe blocks the jugular and the carotid.”

 

“They’ll still die, but it’s slower. Less efficient.” Onashi finished for her, stealing the words off the tip of her tongue. “Tell me, Lee, why the _fuck_ do we know that?”

 

Aliyah hadn’t answered, _Lee, Lee, Lee,_ echoing over and over in her head.

 

Onashi noticed her mistake and clapped a hand over her mouth as if she could take it back. She hadn’t said anything else, just turned on her heel and left Aliyah there to stare off into space, old memories clicking into place, pages filling out in a broken down library.

 

When Aliyah had followed, reaching out like a lost child, Onashi had smacked her hand away.

 

“Stay away from me.” She bit out- and the words slice deep into Aliyah, as if Onashi had stabbed her with her own blade. The way her voice broke around the demand told Aliyah it cuts Onashi just as deep. “Just stay away. Whatever we did, whatever we went through- I don't want to remember it.”

 

Aliyah stands still. Lets Onashi leave. Watches the only piece of her past walk away.

 

But she doesn’t cry.

 

Aliyah Faulkner does not cry.

 

At least, not in front of other people.

 

When she finally lets herself go, her door is locked, her curtains are drawn, and she's certain that Cadence isn't home.

 

That's when the tears prickle against the back of her eyes and her chest feels hollow.

 

Sometimes she tries to fight it, tries to pretend like it's not happening, but the tears come anyways.

 

Sometimes she just barely gets the door closed before she's crumpled on the ground, trying to silence her sobs as best she can.

 

She cradles a sliced palm to her chest, grieves the parents she never had, the childhood ripped away from her. Sometimes she looks in the mirror and traces over every scar she can find, but the tears aren't quite enough to soothe the pain in her heart.

 

 _Knowing_ that Onashi is _this close_ , _knowing_ that Onashi stands on the other side of the gaping chasm that Aliyah doesn’t have the means to cross, _knowing_ that she’s alone alone alone in this, alone in her experiences, alone in her confusion, alone in her pain-

 

When Cadence comes home, she’s pretty sure he knows she's been crying.

 

He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press her for answers, just says, “You can always talk to me about it. I’m your weapon. Your partner. We do this together.”

 

Aliyah’s never sure how to reply to that.

 

Aliyah cries, but only where no one will see her. Only when no one will hear her.

 

She's vigilant about this. Carefully in control, checking off each day she's survived so far.

 

The day that eventually breaks Aliyah’s carefully maintained track record happens the day after what is easily the scariest day in Death City history.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some TECHNICAL ACADEMIA. Basically, I define my own terms and dive into the lore of the SE universe a little more.
> 
> I know I tagged this work "graphic depictions of violence," but a picture is a little different than words, so, WARNING: The first illustration includes blood- it's black blood, if that helps, and nothing gory.

She made it halfway through the year without incident.

 

Aliyah had tidied up the library in her soul as best as she could, the shelves slowly filling with one memory after another. She had a solid group of friends, friends she liked, friends she daresay she trusted.

 

She _still_ hadn’t cried in front of Cadence- not even when she woke up screaming, reaching for warmth that wasn’t there to comfort her anymore.

 

(Cadence was there to comfort her, and she very much appreciated that, but he had to walk over to her room from his.)

 

There was only one day that she didn't bother to wait to cry until Cadence left the apartment.

 

The day after the kishin- _the_ kishin, the kishin to end all kishin, the kishin that even Lord Death couldn’t defeat, could only trap in a sack of the kishin’s own skin beneath the school where people trained to hunt down other, lesser kishin, _that_ kishin- had escaped from Death City.

 

The day after the top meisters of their school had nearly died fighting a team of witches, an escaped convict, and a completely insane, incredibly overpowered swordsman- that day, something happened to spark the biggest recollection Aliyah had run across yet.

 

That day, they dragged that swordsman into the DWMA, frightened, pale, and bruised, his eyes as dark as the robe that clung to his too skinny too skinny body, his head hung as he cowered behind the guards that escorted him to his cell.

 

The demon swordsman, the killer broadcasted across the news, the batshit crazy, invulnerable meister with a weapon in his blood- the one that had nearly killed Soul Eater Evans, her weapon’s best friend, the one that had nearly killed Maka Albarn,

 

_Little footsteps, running down hallways, running down streets, running over grass and dirt and tile and stone and blood and dust, running running running running,_

 

_Familiar voices, laughing, having fun, giggling, in and out of madness, arguing, yelling, disagreeing, shouting, pleading, screaming, crying,_

 

_Holding hands, little hands, hands that shook when they lifted a blade meant to kill, fingers slipping into hers, facing the world together, fingers slipping out of hers, ripped away, forced apart, grappling for something steady to hold onto, to anchor themselves,_

 

_Silver eyes, wide with fear, white with fear, warm gray with happiness, laughter crinkling the corners of tired eyes, black with rage, as dark as a thundercloud and as deadly as the lightning that leapt from within it, those eyes, those eyes,_

 

That was the closest Aliyah had ever come to breaking in public. Hysteria kicked her in the chest, stealing her breath from her lungs, her reason thrown aside in favor of panic.

 

She hadn’t even known who he _was_ until they'd made eye contact, gold mixing with silver from across the room- completely accidentally, random chance, a fluke- and _just enough_ had come rushing back to her.

 

Cadence shook her for a solid five minutes before she came to, but the damage had already been done.

 

_those eyes, those eyes, those eyes,_

 

Forget the hopelessness in those eyes, the dark chill of regret and guilt, forget the madness that still widened his eyes the slightest bit, forget the haunted look that made most people step out of the way-

 

She'd not seen a sliver of recognition in those eyes.

 

_those eyes, those eyes, those eyes,_

 

As soon as Aliyah felt the hot press of tears against the back of her eyes, she...

 

She ran.

 

She ran away.

 

It was all she could do.

 

_running, running, running, running,_

 

She'd never run from a fight. She’d never had the option. It wasn't her decision to make.

 

But her legs weren't listening, and her eyes _burned_.

 

Cadence ran after her, called after her, concerned and confused, but she didn’t slow down.

 

She had to get away- had to get out of sight- _have to hide the weakness- don’t let them see you break-_

 

The door to her bedroom slammed behind her before Cadence could follow her inside, and he shouted after her, banging on the door while she _wailed_. She curled up against the doorframe and let loose, fingers clawing at her chest as if they could dig out the emptiness that drove deep like a knife.

 

Cadence pleaded with her- _please_ open the door, Aliyah, you _can't_ do this alone- but she had lost the strength to stand. He could feel the door shuddering against the frame as each sob wracked her body, and he seriously debated just tearing the door down and suffering through losing their deposit.

 

Aliyah wondered if she could sink into the ground. If she screamed loud enough, would her lungs burst? Would her heart stop?

 

How much more did she have to suffer through? What else would the world give her, only to take away?

 

First her parents, then her friends- her only support- then her own _goddamn identity-_ now there’s _this_ , now she knows the DWMA’s newest _prisoner_ \- what did that _mean?_ What kind of person had she been- what kind of _things_ had she done- to _know the demon swordsman by name?_

 

She couldn’t remember who she was. She couldn’t even remember enrolling in the DWMA. _But she knows the demon swordsman by name?_

 

She could only remember a few things, so far. Most of the things she’d remembered had been triggered by sight.

 

First, her technical abilities, which seemed more like muscle memory and instinct than anything else to her. She’d thought that something was wrong with her when she was one of the only one in their class that knew how to handle a weapon.

 

She’d _known_ that something was wrong after running across Onashi. A girl in her class was very familiar to her, and after a while of tentatively being around her, it had all come flashing back.

 

Her name was Onashi, and she had been Aliyah’s _weapon._

 

However, in the course of the time they’d both been at the DWMA, they’d each found a new partner- a weapon for Aliyah, a meister for Onashi.

 

It hadn’t taken long for Onashi to remember too, but Onashi didn’t remember as easily as Aliyah did. Her remembering came with waves of dizziness so powerful that they’d knock her out cold if the memory was too strong.

 

Aliyah had gotten Onashi back, but Onashi didn't want to remember. Onashi liked to forget what happened, liked to pretend that everything was okay.

 

Onashi didn’t break down like Aliyah did, so Aliyah wondered who was better off.

 

Remembering was no easy feat. Aliyah had to fight tooth and nail to get the memories back- and the memories she gained weren’t all fun and games. Every time she learned something new, she wondered if Onashi was right in forgetting.

 

_“What I don’t like, is how disturbing the things I remember are.”_

 

Things like _take out someone’s sight to render them helpless, the eyes are soft and vulnerable and rarely protected_ , things like _cut too deep into the wrist and the tendons will snap too, rendering the hands useless_.

 

And other, even more ominous things.

 

First up: the realization that she and Onashi hadn’t been surviving on their own.

 

They’d lived with a witch.

 

Actually, from what Aliyah could remember, they lived more under her thumb than with her. She suddenly understood why she was so flighty, ready to bolt from loud noises or disapproving stares. Suddenly, she realized that her memory loss wasn’t from some traumatic accident.

 

Her memories had been _taken._

 

Taken and hidden deep inside of her, hidden so well she can’t even remember the witch’s name. Hidden so well that she’d thought that she and Onashi had been the only ones under the witch’s control.

 

Second: the realization that there was one more component of her past, another soul (souls?) living under that roof.

 

As soon as she’d caught a glimpse of those haunted gray eyes, the unmistakable pink hair… As soon as she’d seen the demon swordsman and known his name, Aliyah knew that she’d survived the witch with more than just one partner.

 

What kind of person had she been to _know the demon swordsman by name?_

 

_Crona, demon swordsman Crona,_

 

Third- and she’d suspected this one, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it was true until her memories of Crona pretty much confirmed it: the realization that her blood was black.

 

She’d noticed that the bruises on her body tended to color darker than anyone else’s. She’d put it off, figuring she must bruise easily. She… she really didn’t have an explanation for the black scars on her shoulders. She _definitely_ didn’t have an excuse for the _dark dark dark_ blood that dripped from her palm after she’d tripped and caught her fall with her hands on the pavement.

She didn’t want it to be true.

 

On one hand, she knew nothing of normal. She gauged "normal" by the condition of those around her, the actions they took, their behavior, their conversations, their knowledge. Nobody around her had black blood. Only red.

 

On the other hand, the only person known to have black blood was the meister that had nearly killed Soul Eater Evans. The meister the news called the demon swordsman, the meister that razed cities, the meister that had collected a _massive_ amount of innocent souls, the meister that was _fully_ on their way to becoming a kishin.

 

She’d tried to ask Onashi about it, but Onashi wouldn’t answer her. Onashi had stepped just out of Aliyah’s reach.

 

But now, the demon swordsman- Crona, someone Aliyah _knew_ had black blood- was within her grasp. Getting answers out of him was sure to be a hassle since, clearly, he was barely a shell of what she remembered him as (but aren't they all).

 

He looked so _broken..._  What had it taken to bring him in? What had it taken to break the witch’s hold on him?

 

What would it take for him to remember?

 

Would he remember?

 

Would he _want_ to remember?

 

What else would she regain, only to lose it again?

 

It didn't matter, Aliyah was crying anyways.

 

The memories were too much, the present was too much-

 

Cadence finally wiggled the lock loose and pushed the door open.

 

Aliyah, jostled from her position against the frame, crumpled to the floor, still shaking.

 

He scooped her up, leaning against the wall and gathering her up against him. She wailed into his chest, letting his heartbeat thunder in her ears. 

She didn't offer an explanation. She didn't push him away. She knew better, by now.

 

He didn’t try to soothe her. He didn't ask questions. He knew better, by now.

 

He just brushed her hair out of her face and offered her tissues, gently running his palm down her back until her sobs dwindled into occasional sniffles, and her breathing evened out.

 

They were silent for a long time.

 

Occasionally, Aliyah would try to speak up and explain, but it was all too much. Cadence just shushed her anyways.

 

After a while of even breathing from Cadence and shuddering breaths from Aliyah, Cadence spoke up.

 

“You don't have to tell me what happened. There's not always a reason.”

 

Aliyah tried to speak again, but she fell silent when her weapon's fingers ran through her hair.

 

“I'm sure you had a reason this time, I'm just letting you know.” Came the quiet assurance. “You don't have to hide. I'm your weapon. I'm supposed to look out for you.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Her voice was rough, broken by the shards of long-buried emotions she had just coughed up.

 

They stayed there until the sun went down.

 

It took many more sunrises before Aliyah could voice what was going on without breaking down.

 

It was difficult to explain how Crona the _demon swordsman_ was her childhood friend. It was difficult to explain the damage that had been dealt, the things they couldn't take back, the memories just out of reach.

 

Cadence took it in stride. He already knew her past was a gruesome one- this was just further explanation for her quirks and tendencies. Considering the havoc Crona had wreaked, the lives he’d taken, the chaos that had been broadcast over the news up until now, all the disconcerting things Aliyah had been uprooting about her past made a lot more sense.

 

Considering the havoc Crona had wreaked, it was no wonder that there was a flurry of rumors afoot before he even stepped into the DWMA as a war prisoner.

 

And if _catching a glimpse_ of Crona had been hard for Aliyah, consider how hard listening to her classmates talk about him had been. Without Cadence, she would’ve lost it in public much earlier than planned.

 

Aliyah might wield him as her weapon, but in person, Cadence was her shield.

 

Whenever gossip about the demon swordsman started up nearby, Cadence dragged Aliyah away. When someone asked their opinion, Cadence deflected. Aliyah watched him work, taking note of the genial smile he plastered on his face before politely excusing the two of them.

 

The most difficult thing to contend with was Maka. It became clear, soon enough, that she had been the one to drag Crona out of his madness.

 

The little blonde meister was a strong defender of the broken boy that lived in DWMA’s basement. She was a _vocal_ defender of the demon swordsman in the DWMA’s basement. Almost every day at lunch saw conversation concerning the newcomer, concerning his past, his present, his future.

 

Aliyah kept a blank facade for the group, but Cadence knew better.

 

It was like... Maka never stopped thinking about him. His name would come out of her mouth at the most random times, those two syllables always snagging Aliyah's attention, always carving a scowl into Onashi's face. 

 

Aliyah always listened closely, but she never showed it. She kept her eyes on her lunch, on Cadence, on  _Onashi_ , on literally  _anyone_ but Maka, trying to pretend like she didn't care. She couldn't tell if Onashi was employing the same tactic, or if she actually wasn't listening.

 

Nonetheless, it was  _tiring_.

 

The final straw hit Aliyah on a bad day.

 

She sat down next to Cadence in class, like she always did. She placed her bag by their feet and spread her notebook over the table, pencil in hand, ready to take notes for class, like she always did.

 

Cadence rubbed her back when she yawned, fully aware that she’d been up most of the night avoiding nightmares of the witch that had plagued her childhood.

 

“Before we start class today, I'd like to introduce our new student,” the teacher spoke up as they flipped through pages of the textbook. Aliyah looked just as interested as the teacher did, fiddling with her pencil while she waited for class to start. “Please welcome Crona, he'll be joining the DWMA as a meister this semester.”

 

Aliyah looked up from her pencil, her body going rigid in an instant.

 

“Aliyah, if we need to leave,” Cadence began murmuring, a gentle hand on top of hers.

 

The students chattered, a mixture of gossip and greetings as they sought out the new student in the room. The direction of their attention brought Cadence’s gaze to a cowering figure in black.

 

The first thing that hit him was Crona’s resemblance to Aliyah when she first came to the DWMA.

 

He was incredibly underweight. The black fabric hid it well, but Cadence could still see the bony shoulder and the concave ribcage.

 

(Cadence had to feed Aliyah _so much food_. She’d always eat all of it, as if the remains couldn’t be boxed up and eaten later. Thankfully, she wasn’t underweight anymore- but it took a lot to get her where she was now.)

 

The way his body folded in on itself reminded Cadence of Aliyah’s panic attacks, the way she’d become so incredibly small when everything got to be too much for her. The look in his eyes was that of a cornered animal- a look Cadence was quite familiar with, but only in private.

 

Crona wouldn't make eye contact, and his jaw was clenched, forcing his lips into a grim line. (Another thing Cadence was intensely familiar with.)

 

Despite the very obvious _do not approach me, do not talk to me, do not look at me_ vibes he was giving off, Maka stood beside him- and she whispered some encouraging words to him before waving to the class on his behalf.

 

Aliyah didn't turn around to watch him walk to his seat beside the twin-tailed meister.

 

She didn't have to, Cadence was sure. He knew how perceptive she was- she could probably feel his soul quivering in fear as soon as the teacher had announced his name.

 

Quietly, Aliyah packed up her stuff.

 

“I'm coming too.” Cadence whispered.

 

“You don't have to.” Aliyah replied, her voice steady as she put her binder back in her bag.

 

“I'm coming.” 

 

Aliyah sighed, but she didn't fight him.

 

She slung her bag over her shoulder as she stood, and her strides down the stairs of the lecture hall were long and calm.

 

_Walk. Walk slowly. Only prey runs. If you run, you’ll trigger the human predator instinct and draw attention._

 

She walked. First, calmly until she left the classroom, then quickly until she got off campus.

 

When she stepped into the city of Death Valley, she broke into a sprint.

 

Cadence didn't catch up with her until she was fumbling with the key in the lock, tears already falling down her face.

 

“Aliyah, Aliyah,” Cadence took her hand off the handle so he could unlock the door for her. She clutched her shaking her hands to her chest, breathing rapidly.

 

“Deep breaths, please,” Cadence reminded her as he pushed the door open.

 

She didn't bother to run to her room. Instead, she plopped down on the couch, curling into a ball, arms wrapped tightly around her middle, holding herself.

 

Cadence went to the kitchen to start the kettle. She’d be grateful for the hot chocolate later.

 

When he came back out into the living room, Aliyah had bundled herself in a blanket, her nose peeking out of the top of the pile. He sat beside her and pulled her to him, allowing her to steal his warmth as well.

 

Not like it was 98 degrees outside or anything.

 

She didn't go back to school that day, opting to ride out the panic attack with a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket around her shoulders, hiccuping softly.

 

It took a month before Aliyah could stay inside any classroom with Crona longer than ten minutes without breaking down. Sometimes she would walk in, see him, and walk back out.

 

She wondered if not having any classes with Onashi was a blessing in disguise. If Crona's mere _presence_ was making her react this strongly, maybe it was a good thing Aliyah only saw Onashi at lunch.

 

Thankfully, Maka didn't bring Crona to lunch. She told the group that the classrooms were one thing, but the busy, crowded lunchroom was a whole other thing.

 

“He has trouble with crowds.” Maka explained. “At least the classrooms are a controlled crowd.”

 

Aliyah leaned over to Cadence, tugging on his collar to get his attention. “He used to deal with crowd anxiety by killing them, so I'm not surprised he isn't used to just _existing_ in the middle of one.”

 

Cadence wasn't sure if he should laugh or not, but when Aliyah leaned away with a smirk on her face, he couldn't help the chuckle that reverberated through him.

 

\---

 

There was only one class that Aliyah was in with Crona that she didn't share with Cadence.

 

This class had been the most difficult to stay in, so she'd missed a lot of classes- and without explaining her absences to the teacher, she wasn't sure she could miss any more.

 

As luck would have it, she had to present a project to the class.

 

Which meant facing the students.

 

Facing Crona.

 

_You can do this. You can't walk out this time. No more running away. Be the predator, not the prey._

 

She walked to the front, plugged her flash drive in, and pulled up her presentation.

 

She squeezed her eyes shut.

 

_Deep breath. Deep breath. Shake it out._

 

She turned and faced the students, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes.

 

“I did my research project on Soul Palaces.” She began, staring intently at a brick on the back wall. “Soul Palaces are the manifestation within the soul that takes the shape of a landscape or a room. You can enter your own in times of meditation or concentration, and you can only enter someone else's if they let you in during resonation.”

 

She tried hard not to seek out familiar grey eyes.

 

She knew exactly where he sat. His pink hair flashed like a beacon in the corner of her eye.

 

“My research concerned what shapes the inside of our Soul Palaces. Everyone’s is different. What causes those differences? What makes one person’s Soul Palace a room, and someone else's a landscape? What causes changes within our Palaces, like the change of season, or lighting?” She clicked through her slides as she spoke, her presentation well practiced. Cadence probably knew it by heart as well, considering how many times he'd listened to her present it.

 

“My Soul Palace is a library.” She clicked over to a drawing she had done of what she could remember of the layout of her Soul Palace. Some students chattered in awe, admiring the tall bookshelves and rich carpeting.

 

“Pretty swanky right?” She asked, a grin cracking her serious presenting demeanor. “But it didn't always look like this.” She clicked to her next slide, showing another drawing, clearly of the same space, but quite different.

 

More whispers.

 

“The shelves used to be empty. There were no lights. How did I change it? What caused it to change?” She continued.

 

Aliyah explained to the class what certain things represented, and how she repaired her Soul Palace.

 

“Your soul is precious. It can be hurt. These changes and damages will be reflected in your Soul Palace, so please, take care of yourself.” She warned. “My friend’s Soul Palace is a forest, and as long as she ignores the problem, whenever she goes in, it's dark and spooky.”

 

Passing through slides, Aliyah talked more on how trauma had manifested in the Soul Palaces of people she'd researched and people she knew.

 

“So whether your Soul Palace is a swanky library,” she touched her chest with a smug smirk, posing for the class- who laughed, easing some of her nervousness- “a giant forest, a piano room,” she looked over to Maka, who smiled at her reference to Soul.

 

Aliyah couldn't help it.

 

Her eyes slid to the person next to Maka- a figure so folded in on themselves and trying not to be seen that you could easily pass right over them.

 

Unless you were Aliyah.

 

She connected with Crona, their eyes meeting.

 

She was surprised to find him actually watching her instead of the floor (or the wall, or the ceiling, or anything that wasn't human). He actually looked interested, too.

 

“Or a deserted beach,” Aliyah heard herself saying, before she could catch herself.

 

She swore she _heard_ Crona gasp. She certainly saw his eyes widen and quickly dart away. Maka’s eyes widened too, and Aliyah looked away before the hysteria rose too high in her throat.

 

“Watch for any persistent, serious changes, and please, _please_ , take care of yourself accordingly.” She finished.

 

The class clapped as she gathered up her stuff.

 

Aliyah slid into her seat with a relieved sigh as the teacher thanked her for a good presentation and called the next name, taking the attention off of her.

 

She felt eyes on her back.

 

She didn't have to turn around to know whose they were.

 

“Excuse me,” Aliyah nodded to the teacher as she stood, excusing herself to the bathroom.

 

She needed to collect herself.

 

Standing in the quiet hallway was such a relief, but it didn't last long.

 

“Aliyah! Aliyah, hey,”

 

Aliyah didn't hesitate to start walking, turning the corner as fast as she could.

 

“Wait- wait!”

 

Aliyah couldn't believe how fast she was caught up to.

 

“Jeez, I almost lost you for a second!” Maka beamed at her as if nothing was wrong (not that she would know, anyways).

 

 _That was the point._ Aliyah groaned internally, itching to run away. Maka had her backed into a corner. The only way out was to push past her.

 

Aliyah had been considering how to politely do that when Maka spoke up again.

 

“That presentation was really good! I should bring that research to Soul- death knows he needs it,” she rambled, shrugging. “But I didn't know you interviewed Crona for your research! That's so great that you got him to talk to you-”

 

“I didn't.” Aliyah cut her off.

 

The smile dropped off of Maka’s face, replaced by confusion in an instant.

 

“I- wait a minute- Crona-” She stammered, and glanced over her shoulder.

 

To Aliyah's ultimate surprise, Crona peeked out from behind the tiny girl.

 

“What the _hell-_ ” Aliyah hissed, staggering backwards.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” a tiny voice replied, and Crona shrank back behind Maka.

 

“He's shy,” Maka explained.

 

Aliyah tried not to roll her eyes. _As if she didn’t know already._ But Maka had no way of knowing that Aliyah had grown up with the swordsman cowering behind _her_ back, and Aliyah had no plans of telling her so.

 

She did nervously eye the tuft of pink hair that was visible over Maka’s shoulder.

 

“I'm sorry, does Crona make you nervous?” Maka asked, concerned.

 

The honest answer was _yes_ , but not for the reason Maka obviously thought.

 

“I've really got to go-”

 

“Oh, you never did tell me how you knew about Crona’s Soul Palace,” Maka charged on, and Aliyah winced.

 

Aliyah bit her lip, threading her fingers behind her back. She desperately tried to quell the hysteria rising in her throat.

 

“Must've been information floating around,” Aliyah replied, voice high and nervous.

 

Maka wasn't dumb. She could tell Aliyah was lying.

 

“You know, I noticed you skipping classes lately,” Maka said quietly. “Are you alright?”

 

“I really should go, Maka,” Aliyah pleaded, trying to inch around her. Maka wasn't having it. She caged her in. “Maka _please,_ ” Aliyah hummed as her back hit the wall.

 

“Those classes have all been the classes you have with Crona,” Maka continued.

 

“Maka, please, you don't… You don't have to defend me like this.” Crona’s soft voice drifted over to Aliyah, and she held back a wince.

 

Maka hushed him gently, but the fire in her eyes died down. “Is something the matter?” She asked Aliyah, hands slipping off her hips.

 

“No.” Aliyah stayed firm in her denial, her chin raised in defiance.

 

“Did you ever run into Crona during a mission?” Maka pressed.

 

Aliyah's vision flashed with too many images. Past memories, violence, fighting side by side with someone who knew her better than _anyone_ else.

 

“Aliyah? Aliyah, hey,” Maka called, and Aliyah snapped back into the present. “You look scared. Please don't be, Crona’s not going to hurt you.”

 

Aliyah snorted, that sentence throwing her for a loop. “Oh, I know.” She huffed before she could stop herself. Despite her bravado, she felt flighty, as if her legs were going to take off without her.

 

Crona peeked over Maka’s shoulder in surprise.

 

Aliyah looked away. “I'm… not afraid of him.” She finally said, shifting on her feet. She itched to run.

 

“That's very kind of you.” Maka smiled, clasping her hands in front of her. “He's been through a lot. He doesn't deserve to be ostracized.”

 

“We both have.” Aliyah murmured.

 

“Oh that's right! I forgot you didn't have a great childhood either, Aliyah,” Maka remembered.

 

Aliyah _knew_ Maka was smart. She couldn't tell if this was naivete or cleverly concealed probing.

 

“Aliyah lost her parents really young,” Maka told Crona. Crona’s gaze lifted off the floor, but he didn't meet Aliyah's eyes.

 

“Oh. I'm sorry.” Crona whispered.

 

Aliyah steeled herself. She had to know. She had to know how much he remembered.

 

“I killed them.”

 

Maka had opened her mouth to say something, but it froze there after Aliyah’s confession.

 

The whole scene seemed frozen. Everyone was stock still, unblinking.

 

Crona met her eyes.

 

“I- I-” he stammered, his eyes widening.

 

Aliyah couldn't look away. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she couldn't move.

 

“It wasn't her fault.”

 

Aliyah felt her breath return to her as Cadence casually walked up behind Maka and Crona. She didn’t know how he’d found her, or how he’d known she needed help- or _if_ he’d even known if she needed help, maybe this was entirely coincidence- but she wasn’t complaining.

 

“They must've lost their minds to a kishin attack or something. They were trying to kill her, and she fought back.” Cadence pushed past the human barricade that had Aliyah backed against a wall and stood beside her.

 

“Oh death,” Maka breathed. “That's horrible- I'm so sorry,”

 

“It's over now.” Aliyah cut her off, looking away. She couldn't help but sidle behind Cadence, letting him protect her.

Cadence paused. “You're Crona, right? The new student?”

 

Maka replied when Crona wouldn't, confirming for him.

 

Cadence was silent for a moment. “I don't think we've met. I'm Cadence Pasolini, and this is my meister, Aliyah Faulkner. We have a couple classes together.”

 

“Nice to meet you.” Floated up from behind Maka.

 

Cadence turned to Aliyah. “Are you okay?” He asked under his breath, keeping the check up on the down low, but Aliyah was sure Maka could hear him anyways.

 

“Not really.” Aliyah whispered back.

 

“See you tomorrow!” Cadence waved cheerfully, dragging Aliyah behind him as he pushed past Maka again.

 

Aliyah swallowed down the hysteria until Cadence found an empty classroom and shut the door.

 

“I presented my project!” Aliyah cheered through the tears.

 

“You did it! I'm sure you did great.” Cadence assured her, rummaging through a closet in a search for tissues.

 

“I did.” Aliyah affirmed. “But I slipped up and mentioned specifics I shouldn't know… So I bolted. Maka chased after me and demanded answers.”

 

Cadence shut the closet door a little harder than necessary, and the slam made Aliyah flinch. “Sorry. I just don't think that was very kind of her.”

 

“She meant to be very kind.” Aliyah sniffled. “She was looking out for him. She didn't want me to be afraid of him. She wanted to show me that he isn't a monster.”

 

Aliyah gratefully accepted the tissues Cadence gave her.

 

“But I _know_ that already.” Aliyah’s voice broke in a sob. “I _know_ that. _I know him._ ” Aliyah hiccupped, leaning against Cadence as he sat next to her.

 

“Is that why you gave specifics about your parents?” Cadence asked, careful in his wording.

 

Aliyah hiccuped into a tissue. “Yeah. Stupid of me, right? Reckless.” She whispered.

 

“You had hope. As difficult as it was, I'm proud of you for trying.” Cadence assured her.

 

“Thanks.” Aliyah mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

 

It was hard to watch Crona peer over Maka's shoulder. It was hard to watch him cling to her, to watch him function as a dependent unit, unable to stand on his own.

 

Aliyah watched Crona progress from hiding behind Maka to walking beside her- albeit hunched over himself and trying to pretend like he wasn't the tallest in the group.

 

One day, she actually _physically_ ran into him.

 

Layla and Aliyah had been joking around, messing with Shiro and his ever unimpressed personality. Layla had tripped and fallen into Aliyah, who had then fallen into a passerby.

 

Who had just happened to be Crona.

 

“I'm sorry- jeez, I didn't even see-”

 

Aliyah stopped mid-sentence as soon as she registered who she’d hit.

 

“S’okay.” Crona mumbled, rubbing his shoulder.

 

Crona glanced down at her and paused, his mouth pressing into a line. He didn't look away, just kept his dull gray eyes trained on her.

 

Aliyah knew her eyes were wide, knew her mouth was pressed into a tight line, lips white with fear. She probably looked terrified to Crona- and she wasn't sure she could argue that she wasn't.

Aliyah’s friends chattered behind her, unfazed by Aliyah's sudden disappearance (though Aliyah knew Cadence was watching her like a hawk).

 

“I saw you on the news, once.” Aliyah finally blurted. She managed to compose herself, finding her normal persona as BlackStar let out a hoot nearby. Her usual unimpressed expression bordered on annoyed as she dodged an elbow from the blue haired boy.

 

Crona looked surprised and slightly embarrassed.

 

“I like the way you fight.” Aliyah continued. “You handle your weapon very well.”

 

Crona blushed a dark red, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. “Thank you.”

 

“Do you like coffee?” Aliyah asked.

 

Crona’s face scrunched up.

 

“Me neither,” Aliyah admitted. “But DeathBucks is one of the only places to hang out around here. I figure you wouldn't want to go there if you don't like coffee.”

 

Crona squinted at her, as if he were trying to figure something out.

 

“I… I like their cupcakes.” He finally said.

 

Aliyah smiled. “They've got great cupcakes. I'll get you one next time I'm there.”

 

Crona looked stunned, and Aliyah waved off his protests.

 

“I like vanilla.” He finally relented.

 

“I like the strawberry ones.” Aliyah fired back, grinning.

 

“Aliyah! Let's go!” Cadence called her. Aliyah waved goodbye and ran back to Cadence's side, her grin wide.

 

“Did you just try and ask Crona on a _date?_ ” Cadence hissed.

 

Aliyah cackled, throwing her head back. “Like he would go off campus without Maka,” she shook her head. “No, I just wanted to talk to him. Figured I’d be nice while I was at it.”

 

“Good job,” Cadence congratulated her, and she beamed.

 

“Besides,” she added quietly. “Why would he go somewhere with someone he doesn't know?”

 

Cadence didn't reply, but he did gently knock shoulders with her.

 

She’d been better about the breakdowns. She was getting used to Crona’s presence, but his absence still haunted her.

 

She had gotten Onashi’s presence back almost immediately, but Crona was still floating out of her reach.

 

She’d lost Onashi almost as quickly as she’d regained her. Would she lose Crona too? Would she ever _regain_ him?

 

Aliyah felt incomplete, and she really couldn't do anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh so yeah, surprise, Aliyah is black blooded....knows Crona... you see what I'm getting at here...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reoccurring error in my art: Aliyah's scars are never pointed in the same direction. One day, I will know the answer. One day, I will draw her consistently. Until that day: just guess.
> 
> Also, brace yourself for the whiplash that is the unannounced POV changes throughout this story.

The beginning of the end started with a partner project.

 

Aliyah despised group projects. She worked diligently, and she worked best alone. Plus, the lazier students just  _loved_ to pile the work on her and accept the easy A.

 

She worked best with Cadence- _obviously_ , since they worked together well enough to be a meister/weapon team. Cadence was even in this class with her, so things were looking up.

 

This teacher had a different idea.

 

“I know you guys have your cliques and your go-to partners, but I want to test your leadership and participation skills.”

 

The whole class groaned.

 

Ignoring this, the teacher picked up her clipboard and began circling names. “I'm specifically avoiding putting you with people you've worked with before, so get ready to make some new friends.” She stayed firm in her decision and began listing off names.

 

Aliyah thumped her head into the desk in front of her in remorse. There goes her weekend.

 

“Cadence, you'll be with Nadia,”

 

Cadence patted Aliyah’s shoulder as he gathered his stuff to switch seats. “You'll do great.” He promised her.

 

“Maka, I want you with Layla,”

 

“Professor,” Maka interrupted the teacher. “I don't think that's such a great idea,”

 

“Miss Albarn, this happens to be my classroom. Please, follow instructions. Layla is smarter than you think.” The teacher dismissed Maka, continuing with her list.

 

Aliyah had to agree. Layla seemed vapid and flighty, and indeed, she was difficult to tie down. Despite her excitable nature, Layla was brilliant. Things just came naturally to her- which was ever the source of frustration for her meister, hardworking Shiro, who constantly had to learn everything from scratch.

 

But that wasn't the issue.

 

“No, no, you misunderstand,” Maka flagged the teacher down again. “I think it would be best for Crona to-”

 

“Miss Albarn, please. I'm sure you know what's best for our newest student, but I've also been given clearance from Lord Death himself that Crona should be allowed to branch out. All of the teachers have. So if you would please,” the teacher motioned towards Layla, who was waiting patiently for her partner's arrival.

 

Maka flushed crimson, embarrassed and unable to argue with Lord Death. She gathered her stuff, gave Crona a gentle pat, and joined Layla on the other side of the room.

 

Crona folded in on himself without his main support. Immediately, he pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his forehead on his knees, hiding his face from the classroom’s attention.

 

“Aliyah, you'll partner with Crona,” the teacher continued listing, as if they hadn't just discussed the demon swordsman.

 

Aliyah froze.

 

For a moment, everything went silent, the ringing in her ears overwhelming the chatter of the classroom. She found Cadence’s watchful gaze, and she knew she looked like a deer in headlights when his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

 

Aliyah took a deep breath, calmed herself, and focused on packing up her stuff so she could move.

 

A glance over her shoulder at her prospective partner told her that he wasn't coming to sit beside her anytime soon.

 

As she stood up, Cadence’s hand landed on her elbow. She hadn't seen him approach, but she'd felt the calm his soul brought settle over her, so she wasn't too surprised.

 

“Are you going to be okay?”

 

Aliyah contemplated this for a moment, weighing her grade (and enrollment at this school) versus the source of every panic attack she'd had in the last few months.

 

“I'll be fine. I'll come get you if I need anything. Or I'll just, like, shout at your soul.” Aliyah assured him.

 

“Can you do that?” Cadence wondered. Aliyah shrugged, laughing, and Cadence punched her. “Go be great.” He encouraged her one last time before she was on her own.

 

Aliyah slung her bag over her shoulder and started up the steps of the lecture hall in order to reach the corner seat that Crona was crouched in, approaching her inevitable downfall with a straight face.

 

“Did you think if you curled up tight enough I wouldn't be able to see you?” Aliyah asked as she finally reached him.

 

Crona peeked out from behind his elbows, his eyebrows pulled low. Obviously, he did not appreciate the teasing.

 

“I mean, if I never found you, we wouldn't have to do this. So I'm not complaining,” she added, tilting her head to the side, waiting for a response.

 

He sat up a little, his frown dissipating bit by bit.

 

“I'm not gonna have to do this whole thing by myself, right?” Aliyah asked as she unpacked her bag.

 

More silence.

 

“I mean, I'll do it, I just won't be happy.” She muttered, flipping through her notebook to find an empty page.

 

“I'll help.”

 

Aliyah paused, laying her pencil down.

 

Her mind whirled, analyzing their last couple of run-ins. Additional information- memories, fragments of things she wasn't sure were her own thoughts- floated alongside, and she snatched up certain bits, piecing the puzzle together.

 

“You don't like questions.” She concluded, turning towards him.

 

Not once had she heard him answer a question in her presence.

 

In a fragment of a memory, somewhere warm and sandy, an angry voice demanded answers.

 

“ _Why won't you answer me?”_

 

Crona lifted his head from his knees, meeting her gaze. “No. I… I don't know how to deal with them.”

 

Aliyah tried to ignore the slew of memories that particular phrase brought up, made all the more difficult with doleful gray eyes trained on her.

 

Or somewhere near her shoulder.

 

“Alright. I can work with that.” Aliyah murmured, checking over her supplies one last time. “I'm Aliyah.” She stuck her hand out- fully aware he wasn't going to take it.

 

Crona watched her hand, silent for a moment. When she placed her hands back in her lap, he spoke up.

 

“We've met before.”

 

Aliyah mulled over their last two ‘meetings’.

 

“If you count Maka chasing me down a hallway and me almost knocking you over, sure,” Aliyah assured him, and couldn't help but smile when he blushed in embarrassment. “But I figured now that I'm sitting calmly in front of you, you deserved a proper introduction.”

 

Crona hummed, processing this. She imagined a little _ding_ going off when his eyes slid back to her, computation complete.

 

“I'm Crona.” He returned.

 

“Nice to properly meet you.” She tried not to wince at her own lie. “Now, let's get started.”

 

She shrugged off her jacket, ready to work, but Crona didn't move.

 

His eyes were trained on her shoulder.

 

Aliyah looked at him, then down at her shoulder, joining him as she squinted at the black slash on her arm. As soon as her fingers traced the edge of the mark, he tensed and buried his head in his arms again, stuttering a frantic apology.

 

“It's fine,” Aliyah whispered- and she wondered if the tone of her voice was what coaxed him back out of his self-made shell. “They're old. I forget they're there sometimes. I can put my jacket back on if they bother you.”

 

“N-no, no, you're… it's fine. I didn't mean to stare.” He apologized.

 

“S’fine,” Aliyah assured him. “A lot of kids here aren't used to combat yet. Scars tend to draw attention.” She brushed her palm over her shoulder, as if wiping something away. “I've just taken to always wearing tank tops. There's no point in hiding them- and it’s hot outside, anyways.”

 

“They're black.”

 

Aliyah tried not to bolt right there, her fingers curling tightly over the edge of her seat to anchor her in place.

 

_You can't run this time._

 

“Yeah,” she laughed- that same nervous, high pitched laugh that had escaped her around Maka. “That's just- just-”

 

She couldn't find an excuse.

 

Thankfully, Crona filled in the gap before she could make a fool of herself.

 

“What happened?” He asked softly, eyes focused on something far, far away.

 

Aliyah glanced at him, taking a quick once over of the scrunched up figure.

 

“Oh- I'm sorry, I- I wasn't thinking,” Crona snapped back to the present, floundering for words and apologizing almost immediately. “I just- I'm so sorry-”

 

“It's fine.” Aliyah murmured, and he stopped stammering, zeroing in on the way she curled into herself. “People ask a lot. I'm still not sure how to answer.”

 

She fiddled with her pencil, then forcefully straightened her shoulders- keenly aware of how vulnerable her stance had become.

 

“It's a long story. It's a long, gruesome story.” She finally sighed, rubbing once more over her shoulder before she met his gaze.

 

She tried not to think about how he should already know this story. She tried not to think about all the good memories she had of nights she had spent curled up between Onashi and him in an attempt to chase the bad away.

 

She also tried not to think about how steady his gaze stayed on her- as if he didn't have trouble maintaining eye contact with 98% of the student (and teacher) population.

 

“I don't think you want to hear it.” Aliyah concluded, trying to force her lips into a smile.

 

“I… I’ve seen some pretty gruesome things.”

 

Crona’s reply was very quiet, as if he didn't want her to hear.

 

As if she didn't already know.

 

“I've heard the rumors.” Aliyah returned, and he shrunk behind his elbows again. “Have you heard the rumors about me?”

 

Crona sat up a little, eyebrows furrowed.

 

“Oh, c'mon,” Aliyah laughed- a bittersweet, painful sound. “Nothing? I was almost _certain_ Maka had mentioned _something_ , especially after cornering me.”

 

“Oh,” came the small response. “Is that what a rumor is?”

 

Aliyah wasn't sure if she was supposed to feel sad or surprised that he didn't know what a rumor was, so she skipped those emotions.

 

“So? Out with it,” Aliyah encouraged, gesturing impatiently. “I'll tell you what I've heard after you tell me what you've heard.”

 

Crona frowned, but he accepted the offer nonetheless.

 

“You don't cry,” he began, very quietly- and he jerked back in surprise when she burst out laughing.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Aliyah apologized, settling down again. “That one's true.”

 

Crona looked stunned. “Really? All I can get myself to do is cry.” He admitted, cheeks coloring in shame.

 

“Well, I don't cry in front of people,” Aliyah amended. “I used to cry a lot, but…”

 

_What was she supposed to say?_

 

That the witch that raised her would try new spells whenever Aliyah would cry? That whichever spell she felt like testing out- usually the short, blunt words that were formed with only pain in mind- would crackle across little Aliyah’s skin, drying the tears in a way she'd never asked for?

 

That he should know the reason already?

 

Aliyah fumbled for words, unable to retell her history.

 

Crona, on the other hand, was quite familiar with the lost expression on her face.

 

It was the same feeling he got every time someone asked why he didn't get something, or when someone had to explain a basic concept he didn't understand and then expected him to explain why he didn't know.

 

It was the same feeling he got when Blackstar had raised a hand for a highfive, and demanded to know what was wrong when Crona immediately flinched away.

 

Aliyah understood something that most of his friends didn't.

 

He wasn't sure what it was, or how he knew, but he’d realized it first when she'd blown past his confusion about ‘rumors’.

 

“I heard you cleared out an Italian mafia gang in one slice,” Aliyah moved on instead of explaining, waiting expectantly for an answer.

 

Crona’s reaction was one she'd never seen before.

 

He frowned- understandably- and reached up, pressing his hand between his shoulder blades. She saw his mouth moving, but she didn't hear the words he spoke.

 

Her mind whirled, cogs turning, processing, processing, processing…

 

_Ah._

 

_He was suppressing Ragnarok._

 

She'd never seen him deny his weapon’s presence before. This was very new.

 

She wasn't sure she could handle Ragnarok right now.

 

“That… that's true. Unfortunately.” He finally said, loud enough for her to hear.

 

“Pretty impressive.” Aliyah shot back. “Now if only you could gather that many kishin souls in one place… You could set a record for fastest ascension to Death Scythe like, ever.” She mused.

 

Crona looked stunned- and she wasn't sure if it was from the realization of his record-breaking potential, or from her _admiration_ of his mass murdering days.

 

“Damn,” Aliyah swore softly in realization. “If only _I_ could gather that many kishin souls in one place. I'd have Cadence be a Death Scythe in twenty minutes.” She sighed wistfully, glancing around the room.

 

“Kishin are tougher,” Crona replied, his voice low and flat, gaze far away. “Human souls are easy to detach. You have to work for kishin souls.”

 

Crona jerked, his face going ashen as soon as he realized what he’d said. He curled into himself without a second thought, burying his face in his knees with a choked apology.

 

“That's why I gave myself twenty minutes,” Aliyah squinted at him, as if this were obvious. “If they weren't kishin souls I could just grab ‘em all in one swipe, like your mafia run.”

 

Pink hair flew as Crona’s head popped up, eyes wide and stunned.

 

Aliyah had more surprises in her than he’d expected.

 

“I heard a rumor that you went to the Czech Republic,” Aliyah piped up next, leaning on her elbow. “You and Maka fought a big bad golem with a chainsaw.”

 

[ ](https://imgur.com/1EHjOSv)

 

“Oh,” the demon swordsman paused, dark eyes unfocusing for a moment to recall the trip. “You heard about that?”

 

“Mission gossip is always hot off the press, around here. Everyone’s talking about who’s collecting souls.” Aliyah explained. “So? What was it like, fighting alongside one of the best meisters at the DWMA?”

 

The little smile that pulled across his lips took Aliyah by surprise.

 

“You should’ve seen her,” he sighed, twirling a piece of hair around one finger. “The golem swung the chainsaw at her so fast- I thought she was gonna die, for _sure_ \- but she just stepped out of the way like it was _nothing_ ,” he recalled, dark eyes searching the ceiling for something.

 

Something Aliyah didn’t have.

 

“She’s so _brave_ ,” Crona whispered, lacing his fingers together on top of his knees. “I could never be as brave as her.”

 

The bell rang before Aliyah could form words to respond, _I know you could_ dissolving on her tongue before she had the chance to speak. She looked down, away from the wistful gleam in gray eyes, and came to the sinking realization that her paper was still blank.

 

“Ready to go?” Maka chimed, already packed up and waiting for Crona, climbing the stairs to his seat with a question on her lips.

 

“Yeah,” Crona chimed, eager to rejoin his pigtailed savior. “We were just talking about the Czech Republic mission.”

 

Maka’s face twisted up into a frown. So did Aliyah’s, upon noticing Crona’s easy response to Maka’s question, but no one was watching her to notice.

 

“Just thinking about that mission gives me cabin fever.” Maka muttered, shuffling in place. “I was bedridden for almost a  _week_. Ugh. _Witches_.” She huffed, rubbing her shoulder. Aliyah opened her mouth to follow up on that last statement, but Maka spoke over her before she could get the words out. “How are you feeling, by the way? I know that chainsaw guy really ripped you up,”

 

Aliyah turned to Crona with wide eyes, surprised.

 

Crona, the invulnerable demon swordsman, the meister with a weapon fused with his blood- _ripped up?_

 

The meister in question looked away from Aliyah’s searching gaze, sheepishly rubbing the side of his neck. “I’m really lucky that Justin showed up when he did. It could’ve been worse.”

 

“It could’ve been-”

 

“How’s your project going?” Maka asked next, cutting off Aliyah's distressed surprise. The pigtailed meister leaned into Crona’s side with an ease that made Aliyah’s stomach flip.

 

_She could barely get him to hold eye contact with her. With HER, someone he’d known since he was a child-_

 

“We didn't get any work done,” Aliyah groaned, rubbing her temples in anticipation of the work to come.

 

“Oh.” Crona murmured.

 

“You can always meet up in the library after school,” Maka suggested.

 

“I've got a one-on-one with Stein after school.” Aliyah shot back- tryingtryingtrying to keep the venom out of her tone.

 

“Hmm. Well, I guess that means you'll have to meet at someone's house to study,” Maka continued, unaffected- or oblivious. “And since Crona's not really supposed to go off campus, I guess you'll be meeting him here.”

 

Aliyah looked over to Crona, eyebrows raised. “That's up to him.”

 

“I don't m-mind. I… I distracted you anyways.” He apologized. “I'm in the basement. Cell 48.”

 

“Alright,” Aliyah hummed. “I didn't know there was a basement. Sweet. I'll see you after my appointment with Stein.”

 

“What's with Stein?” Maka asked.

 

Aliyah sighed.

 

“Must you know everything about my life?” She demanded, tryingtryingtrying to sound playful instead of defensive.

 

“Be kind, Aliyah,” came a reprimand from behind her. Cadence stood a couple rows below them, patiently waiting for her to pack up and head out with him to their next class.

 

Aliyah rolled her eyes, muttering something about not being raised to be kind, but she waved goodbye as she trekked after her weapon.

 

Before she knew it, the last bell was ringing.

 

“Ms. Faulkner?”

 

Aliyah blinked once, refocusing on the classroom.

 

It was empty.

 

“Oh. Sorry.” Aliyah hummed, packing up her stuff.

 

She could feel the teacher's eyes on her as she left. Even though Crona’s appearance had overshadowed her, she was still an oddity. Some things about her didn't quite click, and she couldn't _quite_ fit in.

 

Her footsteps echoed in her ears, and she tried not to drag her feet as she neared Stein’s classroom. His lectures always went overtime, so she had quit waiting outside his office a long time ago.

 

She sidled into the combat class, throwing her stuff by her feet as she sat down.

 

“This is a mission one of our students went on last week.” Stein droned, clicking through pictures of a dark, looming building.

 

He pointed out the target, walked them through the mission, and showed them the building layout.

 

When there were no more slides to click through, Stein turned back to the class.

 

“What went wrong?” Stein asked, pushing his glasses up.

 

The class was silent.

 

Stein waited.

 

“Uh, Stein, sir- professor,” a voice stammered up from the middle row. “They collected the kishin soul.”

 

“Sure.” Stein agreed. “What went wrong?”

 

“Um,” the student flushed red, suddenly on the spot. “They, they uh… they got hurt?”

 

“When? How? What could they have done to prevent that?”

 

Silence, again.

 

“Faulkner,” Stein called on Aliyah, who was kicked back in her chair and intently studying her nails.

 

“I'm not in this class.” Aliyah replied, not bothering to look up.

 

“Did you see the slides?” 

 

Aliyah peered over her fingers, piercing yellow eyes searching the screen.

 

Stein clicked through the presentation again.

 

“What went wrong?” Stein repeated.

 

Aliyah slowly leaned her chair back, mind whirling as she analyzed the information presented to her.

 

“Why’d they go through the front door?” She asked.

 

The classroom paused, staring at Aliyah in confusion.

 

“Knowing that the kishin left behind black tar-like substance at each attack,” Aliyah flicked her hand, motioning for Stein to flick back to some previous pictures. “The window at the top left- there,”

 

The pane was splattered with black.

 

“It's the only one. The other windows, nothing. So they frequent that window. The front door is also covered.” Aliyah continued. “No one stands by a window for extended periods of time unless they're watching. Waiting.”

 

Stein tilted his head, the closest he ever came to a nod.

 

“So, taking the door that they're watching? I mean, as long as you're confident in your combat ability, sure. But this person misses their first strike- nerves, probably. Then they miss a parry- of a pretty obvious move from the kishin, might I add.” Aliyah hummed, squinting. “And there's a recurring pattern in the kishin’s movements, like they're stuck on repeat. It gets… monotonous after a while.”

 

Aliyah made Stein click through the pictures of the kishin. “There. They pause in that position before they swing left _every time._ Arc right and you’d cleave them in half before you ever got bit.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Faulkner.” Stein stopped her. “Class dismissed.”

 

The students filed out of the classroom, sneaking glances at Aliyah as they walked past.

 

“Is that analytic brain your own? Or were you taught to think like that?” Stein asked after everybody else left, leaning on his palm, green eyes bright.

 

“Not sure. For combat analysis, definitely taught.” Aliyah returned, sifting through the information in her head.

 

“Have you ever used it outside of combat?” The professor probed.

 

Aliyah squinted at the screen again. She wouldn't admit out loud that she didn't understand what he was asking. Luckily, Stein was a perceptive man- he didn't miss much, especially when it came to interesting cases.

 

“Do you compute daily interactions like that, or is that function reserved for fighting?” Stein clarified, cranking the screw in his head.

 

“Well,” Aliyah mused. “It's definitely triggered by combat. I think it's supposed to be a coping mechanism for the adrenaline rush and the loss of inhibition that comes with the black blood. Knee jerk decisions are less dangerous if they're well-informed knee jerk decisions.”

 

Stein hummed, and when the screw finally clicked into place, his pitch changed.

 

“But, obviously, it doesn't just shut off. It’s convenient, I guess. I think it's behavior based. I'm trained to notice how people behave, and I'm supposed to pick them apart and use it against them.” Aliyah concluded.

 

Aside from the bob of his head, Stein's expression didn't change. “And the black blood.” He said, but the statement just hung there, disconnected from the conversation.

 

The professor knew about her unusual blood because Aliyah had… had a little trouble with it.

 

The main purpose of the black blood, was to spread the madness, as confirmed by Maka and Soul after the scythe contracted it from Crona. Black blood was a concoction, a purposeful formula for making the holder more susceptible to the pull of insanity.

 

And, as a holder of said insanity amplifier, Aliyah had… slipped.

 

Something, _something_ , had happened to trigger a swell of the madness dwelling within her, and she’d… well, it wasn’t pretty. Thankfully, it had happened in Stein’s office, and the professor had taken care of it before anyone got hurt.

 

He had a penchant for matching up to soul wavelengths, so it wasn’t hard for him to link up to Aliyah and neutralize the threat at hand. It was like an equation to him, something that barely affected his own dormant madness. Shut down this component, nullify those, don't activate  _that_ one but  _this_ one- until the smile slipped from Aliyah's face and the laughter stopped shaking her shoulders. 

 

Within this instance, they’d also discovered that Cadence had the Anti-Madness Wavelength. They’d been resonating when the attack happened, and Cadence had been left unscathed, unaffected.

 

Stein had laid a hand on Cadence’s shoulder, blinked once, then nodded, his suspicions confirmed. It was unusual for someone to be able to resist the effects of insanity while they were feeling the same feelings and thinking the same thoughts as the affected.

 

No wonder Aliyah had been so certain of their compatibility the first time they’d met.

 

“Any attacks, recently? Slips?” The Stein of the current moment queried. Aliyah quickly shook her head, relief on her face.

 

The professor tilted his head, glancing up from his computer screen to scan her for a moment.

 

“You should know,” he began slowly, green eyes dropping back to his computer, “Since the kishin- and I mean The Kishin," Stein emphasized, "is loose, his madness wavelength is also coming into effect with the passing days. It shouldn’t pose a threat to normal people.” He continued almost conversationally, from one not normal person to another. “But for those that already feel the pull of madness without a godly level kishin wavelength affecting them… As a black blooded meister... You should be careful.”

 

Aliyah filed that away, _“maybe there was a kishin nearby”_ echoing in her head.

 

“There's another black blooded meister at school now.” Stein dropped the topic of Crona as if it were no big deal, and Aliyah immediately flinched, scooting back in her seat. “You're not the only one that can notice things, Aliyah.”

 

Aliyah chose to ignore his choice to use her first name.

 

“There's no way you two aren’t connected.” Stein informed her, his voice as monotone as ever.

 

“I know.” Aliyah pressed her fingers to her forehead. “It's just- I _know_.” She hissed. “I can't- I _can't_ talk about it. I _will_ break down. There's just… so much.”

 

Stein only nodded slowly, waving her off. “Does he know?”

 

Aliyah wished she didn't feel her careful facade fracture. She wished that the tears would stay inside.

 

_She'd not seen a sliver of recognition in those eyes._

 

_those eyes, those eyes, those eyes,_

 

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The hysteria rose so quickly from her stomach that she mistook it for insanity rearing its ugly head.

 

_It shouldn’t pose a threat to normal people,_

 

Stein stood from his chair so quickly that the seat toppled onto its side.

 

Aliyah slid back in her own chair, eyes wide, pupils swimming in a sea of gold.

 

_those eyes, those eyes, those eyes,_

 

She couldn't breathe. Her mouth opened and closed, but she couldn't get in any oxygen, she couldn't get out any sound.

 

“Ms. Faulkner,” Stein called, carefully approaching her.

 

Aliyah reached out, her fingers stretching, reaching for _something_ , anything-

 

Her palm flattened against the table, and, before Stein could take another step, a pulse of energy flew out of her, uncontrolled.

 

The table cracked under her palm, spiderwebbing into fractal patterns. Stein took another step forwards, and Aliyah gasped, finally breathing.

 

[ ](https://imgur.com/O4jl7Gl)

 

Her fingers curled into her palm, and Aliyah shook her head, hair flying.

 

“No.” She sighed, the tension leaving her body with the breath. “He doesn’t know.”

 

Stein returned to his chair while Aliyah took to running her fingers through her hair.

 

“Goes to show how used to openly emoting I am.” She muttered, shaking her head again, gentler this time, careful not to displace the strands she’d carefully rearranged. “I'm sorry.” She whispered. When Stein didn't say anything, she smiled grimly. “At least you didn't have to neutralize anything.”

 

“As soon as you feel collected, feel free to go on your way. I got what I needed today.” Stein dismissed her.

 

Aliyah slung her bag over her shoulder and stood, but she didn't go anywhere. Staring at the pattern she had broken into the table, she traced the winding cracks.

 

“I have to do a project with him. Now.” Aliyah whispered. “I… he doesn't know who I am. And he keeps asking questions… and- I can't- how do I tell him?”

 

Stein sighed. “Carefully.”

 

Aliyah flicked a loose piece from the surface of the shattered table.

 

Without another word, she slipped out of the classroom.

 

She tried not to drag her feet, but she couldn't pretend she didn't hang back, trying not to walk at her usual assertive pace.

 

Cell 48. She was looking for a door marked 48.

 

She found numbered doors at 30.

 

Too soon. She wished she’d started at 1.

 

Only 18 doors.

 

She stopped at 45.

 

What was she doing?

 

She shook her head. _School. You need the grade._

 

46\. 47. 48.

 

She sighed. _Shouldn't Onashi be here?_

 

Behind the door, she could see his soul.

 

Lots of people ignored his soul. Timid, tired, and crushed beneath Ragnarok, it wasn't hard to look past him.

 

She knocked. “Hello?”

 

After a moment of no reaction, she wondered if that counted as a question. “It's Aliyah. I'm ready to work.”

 

The door swung open to reveal Crona’s pale face and black robe. He fiddled with his fingers and stepped aside, mumbling for her to come in.

 

His room was square, a bed on one side, a window on the other, and a small vanity set up against the wall.

 

“I- I'm sorry, it's nothing much,” Crona mumbled. “It's actually generous, considering what I did before I got here,” he amended.

 

Aliyah set her bag on the ground. She’d seen the news reports, but she figured it wasn't necessary to tell him that. “Is this better than how it was before?” She heard herself asking.

 

Crona was quiet, foot extended as if he'd paused mid-step.

 

For a moment, Aliyah wondered if she'd pushed too far. She didn't remember  _much_ from their younger days, but she figured that  _"before"_   wasn't something he would want to be reminded of.

 

Then, she realized what the  _actual_ problem was.

 

“Ah, sorry. I forgot about the questions.” She quickly amended. “Forget about it. I don't want to pry. Those probably aren't good memories anyways.”

 

Crona tilted his head, a silent acknowledgment.

 

_She knows those aren't good memories, she knows because she shares those memories, she knows, she knows, she knows and he doesn't-_

 

When he sat on the bed, the springs creaked. Aliyah jumped at the noise, spooked, and Crona eyed her, gray eyes dark.

 

_those eyes, those eyes, those eyes,_

 

_How was she supposed to be alone with those eyes?_

 

Aliyah looked away from him, purposefully avoiding his gaze, and kneeled to dig through her bag. When she looked up again, Crona was standing over her, gray eyes empty and haunted.

 

_those eyes, those eyes, those eyes,_

 

Unable to stop herself, she scrambled backwards, skittering across the concrete floor until her back hit the wall.

 

_Mistake- that's a mistake- only prey run, only prey are afraid-_

 

“You're afraid of me.”

 

Crona’s voice was low and quiet. Aliyah tried not to flinch away from what she already knew. He wasn't accusing her of anything, simply observing.

 

Aliyah sighed, trying to mitigate some of the tension in her body. “Really, it's not like that-”

 

“Ever since I showed up here, I knew… I knew that people would be afraid, or- or unwilling to give me a chance,” Crona continued, his tone wavering, “I certainly don't deserve anyone's trust. But you… I don't…” He frowned, his trembling lips curving downwards. “I figured you skipped classes because of me. But then for this project, you… you've acted normal?” He tacked a question mark on normal, uncertain. “And then… you forget I'm here- and- and get spooked when you remember I'm nearby!” His voice shook almost as hard as his hands as one raised to hold tight to his forearm, uncertainty wracking his thin frame.

 

Aliyah looked up at him, unblinking.

 

“I think that's the most I've heard you say yet.” She noted, dead serious.

 

Crona’s frown pulled tighter, clearly not in the mood for teasing. He didn't say anything else, though, simply waited for her answer.

 

They waited together, sitting in an uncomfortable silence while Aliyah gathered herself.

 

“It's… difficult.” She finally sighed.

 

“To be near me?” Crona clarified, his voice small and timid in a way that hurt Aliyah’s heart.

 

_Well, yes._

 

“No.” Aliyah only partially lied. “That's not it. It’s difficult to explain.”

 

She paused for another uncomfortable moment, sifting through ways to approach this topic. “For you to understand why I am the way I am, I'd have to go through everything. Everything that's happened to me, and everything I'm fighting right now.” She concluded, looking up at him evenly, her jaw set.

 

“I- You don't- don't feel like you have to-” Crona’s dark cloud suddenly broke, and he began stuttering with earnest. Aliyah waved him off, halting his broken apology.

 

“Until we can talk more, just know that whatever I do shouldn't reflect negatively on you. I'm sorry that you thought I hated you.” She apologized.  _Thank you, Cadence, for teaching me how to apologize_. 

 

Aliyah patted the floor in front of her, and Crona tilted his head forwards in silent acknowledgment before folding his legs and settling onto the concrete where she had indicated he join her.

 

“Let's get some work done.” She invited, smiling widely at him and extending a blank sheet of paper in his direction.

 

She ignored the skip of her pulse when he shyly returned the smile.

 

They talked through the project, planning topics and support and discussion. Aliyah was careful to avoid direct questions, and Crona made sure not to move too quickly, each doing their best to accommodate each other's invisible underlying issues.

 

“I'm assuming that the presentation up front is going to be a problem,” Aliyah guessed, turning towards him in realization.

 

Crona looked down, twiddling with his fingers. “Maybe. It depends… depends on what I'm doing up there.”

 

Aliyah considered this, her mind whirling.

 

“I guess… I could- could- could figure something out,” Crona mumbled- but he quickly realized that Aliyah wasn't listening to him stumble over his words. “H-hey,” he called to her, vaguely concerned. “Aliyah?”

 

Aliyah blinked once, surprised, and her eyes focused in on him instead of staring out beyond.

 

“Yes?”

 

Crona didn't answer her, choosing instead to regard her with a vague confusion.

 

“Never mind. I'll think about it later.” Aliyah dismissed the thought, scrapping her ideas.

 

“That was _thinking?_ ” Crona demanded. "You were  _thinking?_ "

 

Aliyah blinked at him again, leaving the room completely silent, and he wondered if that was the wrong thing to say.

 

“Yep.” Came the eventual answer, the word popping from her lips. “Sometimes I get caught up in my thoughts. The faster I think, the faster I get back to reality. Which is good for combat and for not freaking people out.” She admitted sheepishly, scribbling something down on her piece of paper.

 

“Oh- I didn't mean to… to…” Crona fumbled for the right words, eyebrows furrowed. “I was just worried. Not freaked out.”

 

Aliyah’s grip on her pencil tightened into a chokehold. She forced herself to smile and thank him for worrying, then flipped her paper to face him, effectively changing the subject.

 

“What if we present like…” she explained the set up she had, and ran through the couple of half baked ideas she had come up with before he’d cut her off.

 

“That's… that's not too bad.” Crona admitted.

 

Aliyah beamed, flashing him a real smile this time. “We've got one more day to work on this in class, and then we're on our own again.” She reminded him. “So I think this is good, for today!”

 

Crona smiled back, agreeing, and she watched thin fingers lift to rub at his neck- just like he had while talking to Maka.

 

 _Ripped apart_ -

 

“What happened in the Czech Republic?” Aliyah whispered, eyes trained on the high collar that concealed his throat.

 

Crona’s hand dropped back to his side, fully aware that he’d been caught. “Someone… someone got the best of me. A weapon- a chainsaw,” he corrected himself, “Cut me up pretty badly. If… if I didn’t have a built-in defense mechanism, I’d prob-probably be in a lot worse shape. Or dead.” He added, nodding succinctly as if death was a thing he was familiar with.

 

She supposed it was very likely that he was.

 

“Where?”

 

Her voice came out too soft- and even though she cleared her throat to cover her mistake, Crona still picked up on the tone shift. He sent a glance in her direction, gray peeking through long eyelashes, before she realized her mistake.

 

“Sorry, questions, right,” she nodded quickly, searching for a better way to get answers. “I heard you got hurt.” She did her best to convey what she meant to ask, sending him an apologetic smile to fill in the gaps.

 

Crona merely nodded and pointed to his chest with one spindly finger.

 

“Here,” he swept a line from waist to shoulder, “And here, he cut pretty deep,” he noted, clearly unfamiliar with the phrase, one finger dragging over his shoulder and across the side of his neck- across the jugular- “And he meant to finish me off here,” he looped a wide circle around his neck and across one of his shoulders, “But the other Death Scythe knocked him back before it did anything more than scratch me.”

 

Aliyah knew- from _personal_ experience- that the black blood helped to heal wounds faster than normal. The scratches- and potentially even the deeper cuts- would be long gone by now.

 

“That’s scary.” Aliyah murmured, pressing a careful palm to her own throat.

 

Crona tracked the movement of her hand, gray eyes resting on her throat alongside her palm, but his gaze was clouded with something else- something darker, something scared.

 

“Something scared you more than almost getting choked out by a chainsaw,” Aliyah noted, familiar with the look in his eyes. Crona didn’t even bother to be embarrassed and nodded in quick confirmation.

 

“I… we…” His mouth opened and closed, struggling to form the words. “We ran into a witch.”

 

Aliyah leaned forwards, patiently waiting for him to continue with the story, but he froze in place, stiffening and stuttering to a halt as if someone had pressed _pause_.

 

She waited.

 

He took a deep breath, _one two three_ , and let it back out, _four five six_ , his fingers uncurling from his palms where his hands had been clenched into fists. “For you to understand why… why I am the way I am, I'd have to- have to explain everything.” Crona finally spoke up, the silence finally broken by an echo of Aliyah’s words.

 

 _Clever._ Crona had always been a good listener. 

 

She nodded, letting him know she understood, that she wouldn't press him for answers. “Let's sit down another time. We’ll trade stories or something.” She offered, gauging his reaction out of the corner of her eye. When he regarded her warily, thin eyebrows pulled together in concern, she wondered if she’d pushed too far. “Is that not okay? I can just leave you alone after this if you'd rather-”

 

“No, _no,_ ” he interrupted her, speaking all too quickly, a rush of relief. “I didn't… didn't expect you to want to be around me any more than... than you have to.” He admitted. Aliyah shook her head, smiling.

 

“That's silly.” She dismissed him. “I'd be your friend even if you weren't super good with a sword.”

 

Crona blushed, pale cheeks flushing red. “Th-thank you,” he whispered, folding his hands in his lap. 

 

He rose from the floor with her after she gathered her stuff, and trailed behind her until he reached the threshold of his room. She noticed that his toes didn't cross the line, not even by a hair. He stayed in the doorway as she passed through, waving after her one last time as she left his room.

 

Aliyah couldn't help but feel giddy all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on [tumblr](https://iridescentai.tumblr.com/)!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! Did you miss me??
> 
> Sorry for dropping this story out of nowhere eee I'm gonna tentatively promise to get back to updating this one on a fairly regular basis :))
> 
> No blood in these illustrations, but there are depictions of weapons and combat, if that's not cool with you.

The next morning, Aliyah was called into Stein’s office before classes.

 

Hesitantly peeking around the corner, she was surprised to see Spirit accompanying Stein.

 

“Hello?” Aliyah began, completely blocking the doorway.

 

“Stein, please-”

 

“Good morning, Miss Faulkner.” Stein greeted her, ignoring Spirit’s whines. “I was wondering if you'd like to participate in a little competition. Think of it as a favor for me.”

 

_A favor. For Doctor Franken Stein._

 

Aliyah squinted at him. “What kind of competition?” She asked slowly- not knowing if she should be feeling competitive or suspicious.

 

“Some of my combat students think their time is wasted sitting in my lecture hall.” Stein began to explain, folding his hands on his desk. “I agreed to hold a small competition, for the sake of academia, to let them prove to me that they don't need my class. Obviously they're ready for the field.” Stein informed her, and Spirit sighed.

 

“Why do you need me?” Aliyah demanded.

 

“Stein wants to embarrass them.” Spirit muttered, shooting Stein a glare. Stein didn't falter, as unmoving as a statue.

 

“I'll let them take a practice round, and you can watch and warm up beside them, if you'd like.” Stein explained, and the pieces began clicking into place for Aliyah.

 

“You want me to figure out their style and shut them down before they can move,” Aliyah realized, standing up straighter.

 

Most of Aliyah’s class had never touched combat before. Actual combat courses were reserved for the EAT level students- the NOT courses stuck to learning about combat and technique on paper.

 

Aliyah, as Stein had discovered, was no stranger to combat. (And with the new discoveries concerning her childhood company, he was no longer curious as to _why_.)

 

So far, Aliyah had only been allowed to use her combat analysis skills in the classroom, never on the field (since she wasn’t technically certified yet)- but here was her _chance_.

 

“See, she gets it. The whole idea, really, is completely,”

 

“Brilliant,” Aliyah interrupted Spirit, who sighed and clapped a palm to his forehead. “These amateurs want to skip a class that's probably crucial to their survival? Watch what happens if they run into something with more intelligence than the average just-turned-kishin that we get around here.” Aliyah mused. “They'll be torn to pieces!”

 

“Exactly.” Stein agreed. “So you'll participate?”

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spirit waved his hands in protest. “You're going to send in a girl with no training and no combat credits under her belt? She hasn't even finished a full year of weapon handling, much less _combat._ How in the _world_ is she going to-”

 

“I'm in.” Aliyah nodded to Stein, completely ignoring Spirit, who wailed. “Perhaps you should watch, Professor Albarn.” She added cooly in Spirit’s direction.

 

The redhead sighed, pinching his nose as if her confidence was giving him a headache.

 

“I swear to Death and everything that is holy, Stein,” Spirit complained. “You're going to get a student killed at some point.”

 

Stein just grinned and dismissed Aliyah after giving her an excuse slip.

 

When Aliyah walked out back, in the courtyards of the DWMA where the mini arena was being set up, she wasn't surprised to see a growing crowd of students beginning to clump around to spectate.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Cadence demanded, hesitantly following behind Aliyah- who hadn't stopped grinning since she first showed him the excuse note.

 

“If I manage this, we could get bumped up into combat classes _next semester_.” Aliyah hummed, dragging him by his sleeve.

 

Cadence sighed and let himself be pulled.

 

As they settled into the crowd, he determined that Aliyah was in some sort of high alert mode. Her eyes darted non-stop from person to person, cataloging faces, movement, attitude, conversation-

 

When she stopped, motioning for Cadence to start stretching with her to begin warm-ups, Cadence wondered how strong the sheer force of information was going to be when they resonated. 

 

He kinda liked feeling her thoughts race while she did that rapid fire analysis thing. Judging by the hungry look in her eyes as she watched the other competitors warm up, this would be interesting.

 

“What's it looking like out there?” Cadence wondered, stretching out his back. It tended to get really stiff if he stayed in weapon form too long, and he wasn't sure how long this would drag out.

 

“So far, I see 7 groups of competitors. Stein's classes are usually 15ish teams, so either some people wimped out when they had to put their money where their mouth was, or these people are really vocal and Stein is sick of them.” Aliyah noted. She pointed each meister/weapon team out to her weapon, relying on their behavior and her soul perception to pick out the competitors from the onlookers.

 

“Anything else?”

 

“4 of them aren't really serious. They just don't like class.” Aliyah muttered, frowning at the groups that were joking and laughing, not bothering to warm up. “But there are three pairs that are taking this seriously. Two of them are pretty strong.” 

 

“Can you take them?”

 

“Can _we_ take them,” Aliyah corrected. Cadence smiled sheepishly.

 

Sometimes he forgot that he was an integral part of Aliyah's success. Without him, she couldn't do much. She could do some serious damage one on one, but these were meister/weapon teams. The subconscious resonation alone between two people would be stronger than anything Aliyah could ever manage on her own. 

 

“I think so. If you do your thing and help me sort everything out,” she mused, considering, “plus your help with the whole, you know, impulse control issue of mine,” she added sheepishly, and he nodded sagely, a finger to his chin. “I think we can do it.”

 

“You do a lot of thinking,” Cadence teased. “How about, yes Cadence, we _will_ do it.”

 

Aliyah smiled, knocking shoulders with him, a playful grin dancing on her lips. Stein started calling out names for the first match, and Cadence suddenly felt a rush of unease- all his confidence leaving him. 

 

“Let's crush these idiots.” Aliyah offered, holding out her hand. He took it, reaching for her as easily as breathing, and transformed, landing in her palm as a longsword.

 

“Oh, great!” Aliyah cheered. “I really felt like stabbing things today.”

 

“Aliyah, you can't _stab_ anyone.” Cadence reminded her, shaking his head.

 

Aliyah turned her nose up at him in mock disdain as she walked towards her first competitor. “I do what I want.”

 

She lined up in front of cocky, not-taking-this-seriously team number 1 and shook their hand before the match. 

 

“Aren't you a first-year?” The meister asked her, brows furrowing as they shifted their halberd between their hands.

 

When Aliyah nodded, the opposing meister’s expression flashed from confused to confident in seconds, grinning smugly at her.

 

 _Just you wait,_ Aliyah promised, facing her opponent from across the mini field that had been set up for their match. 

 

Stein counted down,

 

3… 2… _1_ … _begin!_

 

The crowd erupted in cheers as students started their matches.

 

Every team surged forwards, eager to meet their opponent, craving the clash of metal and the sting of bruises-

 

Except Aliyah.

 

She stood still, feet planted, Cadence in a defensive stance across her torso.

 

She was confident. She'd cataloged everything. She was ready.

 

The only thing Aliyah hadn't cataloged about this competition was the complete repertoire of people that stood onlooking. These people she had deemed unnecessary to her fight, and had moved on without much thought to them.

 

Of course, she was correct, and perhaps her choice to ignore the crowd was particularly beneficial to her…

 

For standing in the middle of his rambunctious friend group was the demon swordsman himself.

 

\---

 

He was _in_ this class of Stein’s, and Maka had forbidden him from even thinking about entering. If he remembered correctly, she also immediately apologized for assuming he would ever be that arrogant.

 

(He had humbly accepted her apology.)

 

So there he stood, watching his idiot classmates spar in the hopes to skip this required class entirely.

 

He hadn't been surprised at the participants. Most of them had no idea of what combat was really like, and the rest of them just never passed up an opportunity to improve their skills… Or suck up to Stein. If that was even possible.

 

He hadn't been surprised, that is, until they’d all lined up.

 

When 7 teams had volunteered for this competition, Crona had wondered how his professor was going to reconcile the odd one out.

 

He hadn't been expecting Stein to pull _Aliyah_ of all people- his _project partner,_ whom he was _95%_ sure had never taken a combat class before.

 

Well, neither had he, but it was already very clear that he didn't need to be trained on how to hold his weapon.

 

But there she was, shaking hands with a halberd meister who seemed to have reached the same conclusion Crona had- that Aliyah was about to be _crushed._

 

When Stein started the match and Aliyah _didn't move_ , Crona almost closed his eyes, afraid of the outcome. Her opponent flew towards her, legs a blur.

 

And then…

 

And then?????

 

She _stopped them._

 

Aliyah locked blades with this meister and _halted them in their tracks._

No one else seemed to have noticed this. They were focused on the action, not on the stagnant team off to the side.

 

In front of Aliyah, her opponent struggled, confused.

 

In one precisely aimed thrust, she'd slid her blade in the space where the axe blade disconnected from the handle.

 

A precise movement that she couldn't have made without Cadence.

 

“Next time Stein tells you you need a class, don't ignore him.” Aliyah chirped, smiling brightly at the very confused meister in front of her.

 

Crona watched in disbelief as Aliyah tensed- her muscles locking up- and spun 180 degrees, dragging the halberd and its meister the whole way. Now with her opponent on the edge of the field, their advantages switched, Crona could see the grin on her face.

 

It was otherworldly. 

 

~~Honestly, it was a good look on her.~~

 

Everything about that smile was confident, cocky, and completely sure of her abilities (and her partner, that dark haired boy he'd run into before, she was confident in him too).

 

With a two-handed grip on her sword, she disarmed the meister with a vicious twist of her arms. Her opponent yelled, and Aliyah's grin grew sharper.

 

Crona could see her teeth from here.

 

Before the meister could move to respond, Aliyah’s boot was on his chest, and a crackle of energy sent him heavy to the ground, out of bounds.

 

Crona guessed that interaction lasted for about 15 seconds. 30, if he was generous.

 

 _“That's why I gave myself twenty minutes,”_ He remembers Aliyah saying. _“If they weren't kishin souls I could just grab ‘em all in one swipe, like your mafia run.”_

 

So her confidence...  _wasn't_ baseless. She really  _was_ that talented.

 

Meanwhile, while the other matches were still going on strong, Aliyah sat down on the sidelines. Her weapon de-transformed and sat calmly next to her, as if this were normal.

 

_What on earth was she??_

 

_\---_

 

“I don't know why I ever doubt you,” Cadence muttered, shaking his head as he crouched next to her.

 

“The faster I win, the more time I have to watch the other teams.” Aliyah replied. “I had an idea of who would win each round, but now that I can see them in action I might change my mind.”

 

Aliyah draped her arms over her knees, pulling them to her chest. “Besides, we wouldn't have won if you hadn't been there. I can't do this on my own.” She admitted quietly, so quietly.

 

Cadence recalled how fast her mind had been whirling as their opponent approached them. She'd been flipping through strategies like she had all the time in the world, but it was Cadence who slowed her down and picked one to act on.

 

“Sometimes…” Cadence trailed off, wondering if Aliyah already knew.

 

She took her eyes off the fights in front of her to face him, concern written in the way her eyebrows pulled together just the slightest bit.

 

He looked away, finding it harder to admit things when she fixed her eyes on him.

 

“Sometimes I feel like you don't need me.” He whispered, the sound barely audible over the combat nearby.

 

“Of course I need you! I can't do this- I can't do _any_ of this without you,” Aliyah exclaimed, frowning.

 

“No, no,” Cadence interrupted, pinching some dirt in between his fingers. “You don't need _me._ ”

 

Aliyah’s mouth closed, surprise in her eyes.

 

They were quiet for a while, and Aliyah turned back to watch the matches again.

 

“Before I came here,” Aliyah began- which surprised him, because she didn't talk about things before the DWMA often- and from what he knew, she didn't remember much of it anyways. “I would analyze like I do now. And my weapon,” 

She paused.

 

Cadence could almost hear the name hanging in the air.

 

 _My weapon, Onashi_ ,

 

 _Not him_. Her weapon wasn't him.

 

“My old weapon,” Aliyah corrected, her eyes still tracking movement in front of her. “She never slowed down. Everything would go faster and faster and faster…” her head tilted- he could almost see the gears spinning, “I was driving, I had a hold of the wheel, but her feet were on the pedals. And it was always gas, gas, _gas,_ ”

 

Cadence tried to imagine Aliyah operating any faster than she already did.

 

“She loved the accelerator. I didn't mind. It got things done. They might've been messy, but they were done- and done quick.” Aliyah concluded. “But with you,”

 

“I like the brakes?” Cadence interjected.

 

Aliyah laughed. “You use them, at least.” She relented. “Driving isn't just about going fast. If you go too fast around a corner, you're going to crash. And you can't always use the brakes, or else you'll never get anything done. _You_ actually operate the pedals. If you're stepping on the gas, it's because it needs to be stepped on, not just for the thrill of it.” Aliyah concluded. 

 

“So, yeah, sure, I could do this with other weapons, but my skill is at its finest when it's operating with you.” 

 

Cadence settled fully onto the ground as the last match finally ended. 

 

“Get it?” Aliyah asked, her gaze sliding back to him.

 

The weapon nodded, smiling to himself.

 

\---

 

Crona watched the new groupings anxiously. Now with four teams disqualified, there were four teams left and only two fields in use.

 

Aliyah was now up against a meister that was wielding a ball and chain. Their weapon looked really heavy and really not fun to get hit by.

 

He wondered if their project would get postponed if she broke something today.

 

\---

 

“Aliyah, please, do _not_ get hit by that thing.” Cadence pleaded, sounding metallic through the sword.

 

Aliyah just smiled consolingly at him and shook hands with the meister before they began.

 

She didn't like how strong her opponent’s grip was on her hand.

 

\---

 

Once again, Stein counted down, and Crona wondered if Aliyah would wait for the ball and chain to come to her like last round.

 

_Begin!_

 

He was wrong.

 

This round, Aliyah was off like a shot, darting towards the meister who- with all their muscle and heavy weapon- wasn't moving nearly as fast as she.

 

Their opponent didn't seem concerned by her quick approach, and unleashed their beast of a weapon, taking a gratuitous swing in her direction.

 

Crona wasn't sure if he was allowed to be surprised anymore, but his mouth still dropped open when she slid under the spherical weight aimed at her torso.

After skidding across the dirt, she rolled forwards onto her knees. It was barely a second before she was moving again, and she hopped over the remaining chain as if it had been under her feet all her life.

 

Her opponent frowned and snapped the chain back, receiving his weapon- and simultaneously launching an attack at Aliyah's back.

 

If Crona hadn't been amazed before, he was definitely stunned when she _jumped_ , letting the weight of the ball fly under her, _ricocheting off of the sheer kinetic energy_ of the returning weapon, and _catapulting herself into the air._

 

_\---_

 

Cadence was trying not to scream.

 

There's _no way_ Aliyah could've predicted this, yet when he shouted a warning about the returning ball and chain, her train of thought simply changed tracks, and now they were in the air.

 

Simple as that.

 

As if anything about Aliyah was simple.

 

\---

 

Crona watched her clasp two hands around the hilt of her sword, ready to plunge the blade onto the vulnerable meister beneath her. Her opponent didn't have time to intersect her falling path with another attack, so they improvised, holding up a section of chain as a shield to block Aliyah's blade.

 

He wondered if she was actually going to stab them- the glint in her eyes and the crooked grin on her face didn't convince him otherwise.

 

But, at the last moment, she flipped her blade, pointing it towards the sky, and smashed the handle of her weapon into her opponent's skull.

 

Because she used the shorter handle, and not the blade, the meister miscalculated, and their quickly constructed shield failed to intercept her strike. The opposing meister went down hard. 

 

The thump that resounded through the area signaled the end of the match- and it happened to catch the attention of one of the teams on the other field, letting their opponent get the better of them.

 

The two matches ended within seconds of each other.

 

\---

 

Aliyah righted herself from where she'd bodily collided with the heavier meister and dusted herself off before she released her grip on the longsword in her hand, letting Cadence detransform. 

 

“I told you that you can't _stab_ anyone!!” Cadence hissed under his breath as soon as he landed on his feet, his arms already crossed.

 

“Well, you caught me before anything happened. We're fine. Everything is fine.” His meister assured him, brushing the Nevada dust off of her jeans.

 

Cadence opened his mouth to say more, but Stein beckoned them to the area adjacent to theirs. He grabbed a water bottle before the last round, shooting a glare at Aliyah before he stood by her side again.

 

\---

 

The crowd around them began murmuring- a bit late to the party, Crona mused- as they finally noticed the younger team in the final round.

 

“Weapons, transform,” Stein announced.

 

Aliyah reached out, expecting a sword, but instead Cadence's scythe form landed neatly in her palm.

 

Crona choked, taken by surprise by Cadence’s change in form, then yelped when BlackStar pounded him on the back and reminded him not to swallow flies.

 

He tried not to think about whatever the hell _that_ meant (eat bugs???), and returned his focus to the match about to begin.

 

\---

 

“Just because you're mad at me doesn't mean you need to change forms,” Aliyah complained.

 

“You know I can't control them!!” Cadence argued.

 

“I know they're connected to your mood,” Aliyah returned. “And yours has swung twice in the last 30 minutes!”

 

Cadence rolled his eyes, caught, and focused on their resonation.

 

Aliyah stepped forwards to shake hands with her opponent, who was coming at her with a staff of some kind. She smiled politely, returned to her spot, and waited.

 

3… 2… _1_ … _begin!_

 

She didn't waste any time approaching, and neither did her opponent. They met in the middle with a clash of demon steel, and Cadence winced at the horrendous sound his blade made across their opponents staff.

 

Their opposing meister didn't waste any time keeping Aliyah on the defensive, sending attack after attack in her direction. Cadence pointed out openings in their defense, and Aliyah predicted as much as she could about the next strike.

 

\---

 

Crona watched the staff meister, _wasn't it like, Ox or something…_ (with his weird bald head and odd swirly glasses, Crona was surprised at himself for not being certain of their name.) Nonetheless, he watched the meister (Oxen? Oxland?) unleash a flurry of attacks on Aliyah, trying to keep her on her toes.

 

Aliyah seemed to be holding up fine- that is, until the meister (Oxfeld? Oxman? Oxymoron?) unleashed the trick up his sleeve that he’d been hiding for the whole competition. 

 

\---

 

Cadence only had time to shout in concern when he finally registered that odd static hum for what it really was.

 

Aliyah shouted too, but it was more in pain than anything else. The electricity crackled through her muscles, locking her body up and crumpling her to the floor when it left.

 

Dizzy and still twinging, Aliyah just barely had enough sense to move out of the way when that staff hit the ground nearby. 

 

Something in her brain clicked, and Cadence held on tight as her train of thought whipped onto a new track.

 

 _The ground…_  

 

\---

 

Crona saw the dazed look on Aliyah’s face, and he wondered if this was it. 

 

He quickly realized she wasn't beaten yet after she shook her head violently and avoided yet another thrust from the opposing team (Oxiclean?? Oxavier???). 

 

Crona was used to being physically shocked. Whether it was his mother's spells, a meister’s Soul Force (Stein had a particularly brutal one that he never wanted to feel again), or just electricity from some elementally gifted weapon… He'd been shocked plenty of times.

 

Aliyah recovered quicker than he expected her to. 

 

He wondered if he wasn't the only one used to being shocked.

 

Aliyah swept her scythe blade at her opponent’s feet, but he jumped over her strike as if it were an obvious move. 

 

\---

 

She was still on her back, exposed like a turtle, and she needed to get up- fast.

 

And preferably take him down in the process.

 

Cadence honed in on a solution just as she grumbled about her position. He threw it in her direction and pressed the accelerator to the floor.

 

\---

 

Suddenly, Crona caught a glimpse of that grin again.

 

All teeth, sharp, confident… it was almost more of a bared snarl than a smile if it wasn't for the excitement in her eyes.

 

If he wasn't absolutely sure that the kishin had fled this place, he would've assumed she had picked up on some strain of madness. 

 

But that was impossible. The only people who were inherently insane around here were Soul, himself, and Stein- and only one of those 3 didn't have black blood.

 

He lurched forwards, compelled to watch closely as Aliyah finally made her move. 

 

When her opponent tried to pin her again, slamming the tail end of his staff into the Nevada dust- ever so conveniently landing in between her legs- she wrapped her legs around the staff, burying it deeper into the ground, and hauled herself up with a grip on the metal pole.

 

She was stunning, flipping herself up from the ground with a loose grip on the other meister's (Oxpen? Oxherd?) weapon.

 

He (was his name Oxford? Ox Ford? That sounded right…) tried to stun her again, pump a few more volts into her system and possibly knock her out, but the staff only fizzled and popped as if they had been unplugged.

 

The ground... She'd grounded his weapon! The electricity was simply dissipating into the ground as if the staff were a lightning rod on a tall building.

Ox Ford yelped at the sudden power failure and turned to flee, but Aliyah had already caged him in with the curve of Cadence's blade. He faced her again, his shoulders hunched in a timid gesture Crona was quite familiar with. ( _Fear, he’d been cornered, his trump card had been taken away from him-_ )

 

Before anyone could take a breath, Aliyah struck him on the cheek, knocking him further into the cage of her weapon. In quick succession, she hooked a leg under his, cracked her elbow into his other side, and kicked his weapon away as he hit the ground.

 

Stein called it as soon as the partners separated, knowing from the way Ox was rubbing his head that he wasn't getting up again. 

 

Aliyah stepped back as the crowd chattered, the onlookers caught between applauding and gossiping. She bowed to Stein, released Cadence from her grip, walked to her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and disappeared into the crowd.

 

Stein ignored Ox rolling on the ground and made a pointed announcement to his students, reminding them that they were free to complain about his class, but until they could manage to conquer something smarter than an early stage kishin, his lectures were mandatory.

 

Crona followed his group of friends as they returned indoors, going largely unnoticed as he hung at the back of the crowd, twiddling with his fingers.

 

_What kind of backstory creates a person like Aliyah?_

 

BlackStar called for him, concerned when he realized he'd lost the skinny, pink meister. Crona smiled and returned to amalgamate into his group.

 

His friends might be weird, and they might not understand what sort of life he was coming from, but they still cared about him- no matter how different they were.

 

It stunned Crona, but he liked it. He hoped to learn from them, so that as he made friends of his own he could do the same for them.

 

Perhaps he'd start with Aliyah.

 

\---

 

In the same moment, Aliyah was dancing.

 

The hallways were empty, classes still dragging on and locking students in their respective rooms. That left Aliyah free to chatter and skip down the hallways, Cadence occasionally breaking into a jog to keep up.

 

“I thought he had you, for a moment there,” Cadence admitted.

 

“I thought so too!” Aliyah cried, spinning in a quick circle. “But you had my back, so I was fine! And then I _flipped up_ , twirled around his staff, _punched_ him in the face- _god_ ,” she gestured wildly, a wide smile splitting her face.

 

“You did it.” Cadence agreed.

 

“We-” Aliyah corrected him.

 

“We. Okay, _we_ did it.” Cadence agreed, a smile tugging at his lips. Aliyah let a barely restrained noise of joy slip through her teeth, and she spun him in a circle.

 

“Do you think Stein’ll keep picking us out for small competitions like that?” Aliyah wondered aloud after she'd stopped giggling.

 

“Oh! Did you compete in that tournament of Stein's today?”

 

Aliyah turned on her heel to face the source of the voice and found Maka at the other end of the hallway.

 

“Yeah,” Cadence answered for his meister, who looked like she wanted to bolt.

 

“How cool! I'm not in that class, but I heard from Crona and Blackstar that the competitors were trying to test out, or something like that.” Maka remembered.

 

Behind him, Aliyah choked- probably registering that the crowd had more familiar faces than she originally assumed.

 

“Yeah, apparently Stein called Aliyah into his office and asked her to compete.” Cadence humored Maka, continuing the conversation. He wondered if he should cut it short. He couldn't see Aliyah's face to tell.

 

“They were short a team.” Aliyah blurted. “They had 7. It was uneven.”

 

Maka seemed surprised- as most of the students in the crowd had been. “Wow! It must've been fun getting a taste of a combat class this early in your enrollment.” She smiled brightly at the pair, and Aliyah wondered once again if she was faking it or being sincere.

 

“Who won? Did you catch their names?”

 

Cadence turned to Aliyah, wondering if he should answer. Aliyah had that deer in headlights look- a look he didn't see often, but he was beginning to see a pattern in its appearances.

 

“Nope.” Aliyah chirped, abruptly turning away. 

 

“See you later, Maka. We've gotta get back to class.” Cadence apologized, waving as he followed Aliyah around a corner.

 

Aliyah immediately slumped against the wall once Maka was out of sight.

 

“She makes me nervous.” Aliyah whispered. “I don't know why.”

 

Cadence didn't pry. He knew that some of Aliyah's quirks were difficult to explain.

 

“Let's get back to class.” He invited, beckoning her forwards. She lurched, pushing off the wall to follow him.

 

The skip in her step wasn't entirely gone.

 

When she came into her class with Crona, ready to work on her group project, her happy mood was back.

 

“Alright, class, you know what to do. Let's get into our groups.” The teacher called out as soon as she finished taking roll.

 

Aliyah, having the good sense to not unpack before she moved this time around, scooped up her stuff and almost pranced up the steps to her partner. She flashed a smile at Crona, who waved hesitantly in return.

 

“You… you're in a good mood,” Crona noticed.

 

Aliyah nodded firmly. “I had a good morning.” She informed him as she dug through her bag for a pencil. 

 

“Ah.” Crona murmured. 

 

“I hope your morning wasn't too bad,” she offered, leaving the statement open ended so he could fill her in (instead of asking him what he did today: a question he would not be able to answer).

 

“Oh no,” Crona assured her, voice still soft as he warmed up to her presence. “I had an eventful morning. My first class got cancelled so some students could prove Stein wrong. It didn't go very well.”

 

“Oh,” Aliyah’s expression was unreadable as she flipped through her notebook. “You watched the impromptu tournament this morning?”

 

Crona nodded, and Aliyah finally found her page of notes from the night before. 

 

“Did you see who won? Maka was asking me earlier. I must've been distracted when Stein announced it.” Aliyah asked nonchalantly, resting her cheek on her palm as she looked over to her project partner.

 

Crona blinked rapidly, very confused. “A-Aliyah- didn't you- weren't you-” he stammered, uncertain of her intentions.

 

Aliyah's unreadable expression cracked as a smile broke out on her face. “I kid,” she laughed, “I'm just teasing. I know who won. It'd be weird if I didn't,” she assured him. “Seeing as I took them all down.”

 

Crona _still_ wasn't completely sure how to handle Aliyah. She kept surprising him.

 

“Oh! That reminds me,” she exclaimed as she grabbed a paper bag by her feet. “Cadence took me out for a victory lunch, and I grabbed these,”

 

She extended a cupcake his way. Vanilla, his favorite.

 

Crona’s eyes lit up, but, just as he reached for it, his face contorted and he bent over himself in what looked like agony.

 

Between his shoulder blades, his skin rippled. First an arm shot out, pushing Crona’s head further down between his legs, then a head and a body- along with another arm that made grabby hands for the cupcake Aliyah had extended.

 

This was her first encounter with Ragnarok since she'd been under the witch’s thumb.

 

He was… smaller than she remembered.

 

“Ah ah,” Aliyah reprimanded, holding the cupcake out of reach as Ragnarok grabbed for it again. Ragnarok sputtered, beginning to spew curses, but Aliyah just held up a finger, signaling for him to wait.

 

Out of the paper bag she pulled another cupcake, this one a dark, deep chocolate.

 

This cupcake she extended towards Ragnarok. The demon weapon eyed her, confused for a moment, but didn't pass up the opportunity for a snack and grabbed the cupcake from her. He scarfed it down in seconds, then returned to Crona's blood as quickly as he had appeared.

 

Crona sat up slowly, eyes wide and hair rumpled. “Wh- what-” he stammered, looking around to assess the damage. “What’d he do?” 

 

“Don't worry about it. He just grabbed a cupcake.” Aliyah dismissed him. She held out the white pastry again, and Crona gingerly took it from her.

 

He turned it in his hands, examining it as if something should be missing.

 

Carefully, he peeled off the wrapper and took a bite.

 

\---

 

 _Perfect_.

 

When Aliyah saw what must be obvious satisfaction in his expression, she smiled. She dug another cupcake out of the bag, strawberry this time, and Crona wondered how many she had hidden in there.

 

He also wondered what magic she had worked on Ragnarok to keep the weapon’s grabby hands away from the cupcake meant for him. Ragnarok loved nothing more than food, and even better than food was taking food meant for Crona.

 

Stranger still was the fact that she seemed completely unperturbed by Ragnarok’s sudden appearance and disappearance. Or by his existence in general.

 

“So, I thought some more about how to get you points on presenting without putting you in an uncomfortable situation,” Aliyah began, underlining some ideas scribbled in her notebook. 

 

Crona snapped back to the present, steadily munching away at his cupcake. 

 

 _Focus_. 

 

_Forget about the extenuating circumstances. Just finish the job._

 

He winced a little at how closely that thought resembled the way his mother spoke to him. He guessed that even if she wasn't with him, he'd always have her voice in his head somehow.

 

Maka had told him once that that was normal, that she heard Spirit in her head too. 

 

Well, she heard things like, “act like a lady” and “sit up straight” while he usually heard reminders on how to kill someone. So they differed in that respect, but the concept was the same.

 

He shook his head, trying to shake himself back into reality.

 

“I think that will work fine,” Crona heard himself saying. “I think I can deal with that.”

 

“Great,” Aliyah cheered, circling one of her options. 

 

Crona bit his lip, wondering how to phrase his request. He wasn't sure it'd be welcome- what if she didn't want that, what if she’d just been humoring him, what if he was wrong,

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

He looked up, eyes wide. He stammered for a moment, then looked away, caught.

 

“Oh, oh, sorry, habit,” Aliyah apologized. She tossed ideas around in her head, trying to phrase this correctly. “Something is on your mind,” she settled on, clearly trying not to turn her voice up at the end to make it a question. It was kind of her to accommodate him like that. Thoughtful.

 

Crona sighed, munching on the last of his cupcake. “It's… it's not important really. I guess I'm just… just nosy.”

 

Aliyah laughed and shook her head. “You keep to yourself more than anyone I know. You're the last person I'd call nosy. Maybe it's curiosity you're feeling,” she guessed.

 

Crona tilted his head. “What's the difference?”

 

“Nosy is when you force yourself into other people's business, especially when you have no reason to be there. Curiosity is just wanting to know what's going on, but not demanding that people tell you.” Aliyah explained. “Curiosity is more polite, I guess.”

 

“Call it curiosity, then,” Crona relented, crossing his arms over his torso, his gaze cutting to the side.

 

“If you're curious about something, I'm sure you could find something about it in the library,” Aliyah mused.

 

Crona really didn't think he was going to find information about Aliyah in the library.

 

“And here, just so I'm not being nosy, I'll ask you a question so you don't have to respond. Totally up to you.” Aliyah promised. “What are you curious about?”

 

Crona didn't meet her eyes, but he felt his face flush a dark red in response.

 

The answer was, _you_.

 

But that was embarrassing.

 

“I pass,” he whispered.

 

\---

 

The smile slid off of Aliyah's face, but she caught herself before Crona looked up again.

 

“That's fine. I don't want to force you to answer.” Aliyah assured him. “Anyways, I think we're just about done,” she decided, looking back over their outline. 

 

“Will we need to meet up again after class today?” Crona asked hesitantly, trying not to look at her.

 

“We can, if you think we need to.” 

 

Now that the decision was on him, he floundered, unable to answer.

 

“Before you pack up and leave, remember that you're all presenting tomorrow,” the teacher reminded them.

 

“Nevermind.” Aliyah changed her mind. “ _I_  think we need to. So as long as you're up for it,” she offered. He nodded, glad that she had decided for him. Aliyah’s smile was small, but still present, as she packed up her stuff.

 

As she bent down, her jacket slipped off her shoulder, revealing that menacing black slice.

 

She tugged it back up automatically, but paused soon afterwards and turned to him. He blushed, caught in the act of staring, but she didn't seem to notice.

 

“I was going to…” she trailed off, her eyes far away. “Was gonna explain…” Her eyes flashed, and she abandoned that thought. “So that you didn't think that… that I hated you anymore,” she finally finished, her gaze finally focusing on him. “I'm sorry. I forgot about that.”

 

Crona blazed red, embarrassed, and immediately began assuring her that it was fine, she shouldn't feel the need to-

 

“No, no, as long as you don't think it's weird,”

 

She paused, waiting for him to confirm or deny her suspicions.

 

The heat didn't leave his cheeks, and he couldn't help but meet her eyes. “I- no it's fine, I had just- just been thinking about how to… How to ask about…”

 

“Oh!” Aliyah exclaimed, suddenly understanding. “ _I'm_ what you're curious about,” she realized. “Well, that's quite flattering, thank you very much. I hope-”

 

She stopped in the middle of her sentence, her gaze going far away again. Her shoulders went slack, the tension draining out of her.

 

“I hope I don't scare you off or anything.” She whispered. “None of my story is fun.”

 

“Not everybody's is.” Maka’s voice, loud and chipper, agreed from behind her. Aliyah jumped, taken by surprise, and she scooped up her bag, ready to make a quick escape. “You should hear BlackStar’s. At least he was too young to remember it.”

 

“Lucky him.” Aliyah muttered, dodging Maka’s questioning glance as she stood. “I can meet wherever you want after school, I don't have anything to do,” she aimed at Crona.

 

\---

 

“Library?” He offered, feeling a cheeky grin creep onto his face. He knew Aliyah got the joke when her smile suddenly mirrored his.

 

“Sure.” She agreed, waving goodbye and stepping around Maka.

 

Maka may only stand a couple inches above five foot, but she still gave Aliyah the heebie jeebies.

 

Crona spent the rest of the day busy busy busy. Aliyah was the last thing on his mind until Maka asked him about their after school meeting.

 

“Oh! We were…. We were going to finish up… Review,” he decided on a better word mid-sentence, “after school today in the library. I'm nervous about presenting and she's been really great about working around that.” 

 

Maka nodded, pleased. “I saw Ragnarok in class today,” she remembered, leaving the statement open for Crona to finish. He winced and sheepishly scratched his neck in response.

 

“Yeah… Aliyah had cupcakes,”

 

“They were _damn good_ cupcakes! Where can I get more of those?!” Ragnarok demanded, sprouting from between Crona’s shoulder blades.

 

Maka’s eyebrow twitched, but she smiled anyways. “I believe they're from the coffee shop in town.”

 

“We gotta go into town, Crona- giddy-up!” Ragnarok shook bits of Crona's hair like reigns, and Crona swatted at him, wincing as his weapon tugged too hard.

 

“How’d Aliyah get you to go away? I need to learn a trick like that,” Maka teased the demon weapon. Ragnarok frowned- or frowned as best a weapon can without a fully visible mouth- and let go of Crona’s hair.

 

“She gave me a cupcake. ‘S what I wanted.” Ragnarok said simply before he melted back to his place within Crona’s blood.

 

Crona just shrugged. “Ragnarok likes food.” 

 

Maka tried to ignore the muffled “ _damn right!_ ” that came from somewhere within Crona.

 

\---

 

“Is it Aliyah's birthday? What was up with the cupcakes? She had, like, a whole bag of them,” Maka remembered.

 

“Oh, I… I think she said something about a victory meal? She won the tournament this morning, so I guess she went out to lunch.” Crona guessed.

 

Maka stumbled, but righted herself quickly. “Oh! That's great!”

 

How on _earth_ a first-year beat out 7 other teams trained in some level of combat was beyond her. 

 

And the fact that Aliyah- and Cadence- had lied to her this morning?

 

Something was up.

 

“Have fun after school today!” Maka encouraged him as they parted ways. Crona nodded, obviously trying to stay positive, and waved as he walked away.

 

In her last class, bored out of her mind, Maka made a small table in the corner of her notes.

 

Aliyah Faulkner

  * First year
  * Won combat tournament?? Lied about winning
  * Scythe/sword partner
  * Afraid of Crona? Avoids Crona?
  * Suddenly really good at managing Crona in a group project
  * Magical Ragnarok calming skills
  * Creepy/violent past



 

She shook her head, scribbling out her accusatory thoughts. It wasn't worth it to be suspicious. Some kids were just naturally talented, or had been taught from a young age. 

 

_Don't worry about it._

 

When her last class ended, Maka made a decision.

 

“I’ll catch up with you later, Soul,” she assured her weapon. “I’m gonna study in the library for a bit.”

 

“Alright, nerd. See you later.” Soul replied, grinning in a sharp way that had nothing to do with his teeth. Maka’s eyebrow twitched, but she let the comment go. 

 

She found a quiet spot in the library without difficulty and got to work. She _did_ have homework to do, so she figured she’d do that until she saw the two come in.

 

Crona had every right to make friends, and Maka wasn’t trying to stop him.

 

She just wanted to make sure Aliyah was the _right_ friend to be making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god, im so sorry about how often i change POVs. Do you have whiplash? I tried to delineate the POV jumps with some ---'s, but i'm uncertain if they helped or were just irritating.
> 
> I edited the first chapter a bunch bc I was rereading it and I hated the composition :)
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](https://iridescentai.tumblr.com/)!! or [twitter](https://twitter.com/iridescentai)! i love u guys <3


End file.
